Into the Abyss
by powerofthebabe
Summary: She feels dirty. She feels exhausted. She aches all over. She feels distinctively unlike herself. Because he's taken something. She doesn't know what. But she's numb and she's broken and she doesn't know if there's any coming back from this. Because if there's a heaven, there's a hell and she's surely in it. A/U Peyton/Lucas WARNING- dark subject matter, M for a reason
1. Chapter 1

Her mind is foggy. She can't remember anything. She's overwhelmed by the fear that's lodged in the back of her throat. Because she's tied up. She can't move. And she doesn't know what this place is.

It's dark.

There's a dim lamp in the corner and she can make out the outline of a sofa across from her.

But asides from that it's a cell of darkness.

Her face hurts, a bruised sensation running across her left cheekbone to her nose. She looks down and the white of her prom dress sparks her memory. Prom. It was prom. She'd not made it. The door. Lucas. The door. Derek...

She trembles as she recalls those last moments of consciousness; his fist colliding with her face, his hand over her mouth, Lucas' voice behind the door, tauntingly close and then there was nothing.

Panic has her straining her arms, trying to free herself from the tight restraints that are keeping her seated.

It's futile.

He watches from the darkness. Watches her unseen, hidden in the shadows.

He's been watching her for a good while now. Waiting for this moment, waiting for her to come to from her drug induced slumber.

It had been an inevitible necessity in getting her here safely and undetected.

He sees realisation transform her features. He'd been uncertain as to whether she'd remember anything at all; he'd read that some people failed to recollect immediate events from before hand and he feels a certain satisfaction that he's clearly had a big enough impact in her life to be so memorable. That's how he sees it anyway.

She's panicking now, her little body twisting violently to escape the ropes that bind her to the chair and his satisfaction ebbs because she's hyperventilating.

'Breathe'

She stiffens and her anxious green eyes are wide and teary as they round on him.

'Breathe' He repeats, his voice soft and gentle but she won't be deluded by his performance. She knows all too well of the villain that's suddenly knelt right before her.

She presses herself back into the chair now, trying to shy away from the hands that are ghosting over her knees.

'This was just a precaution, I'll untie you. I had a few things to sort out and didn't want you to be disorientated if you woke up without me here' He calmly informs her of his decision to restrain her.

His explanation does little to ease the sick feeling in her belly because it explains nothing.

He loosens the knots that have her wrists bound to the back of the chair and her stare does a quick lap, absorbing her surroundings, seeking out an exit.

'How do you feel?'

She's too focused on locating an escape route to fully comprehend his words.

'It was necessary you see, to give you something in order to get you here safely. Hopefully you'll feel completely like yourself once we've got some fluids and some substantial food in you'

The rope comes away from her left wrist and he delicately moves the dead weight of her slight limb until her hand is rested in her lap.

She rotates it slowly, willing the blood to circulate and all feeling to come back in her fingertips.

He's silent as he works on the other knots and despite the freeing of her limbs she's suddenly overwhelmed because he's not freeing her. Not really. Her freewill has been apprehended.

And it's that thought that has her rising to her feet as soon as her other hand becomes free.

She's not prepared for the dizziness that hits her but she forces her legs to keep moving. She trips and stumbles in her desperation to escape him, to escape whatever this place is.

She doesn't look back. Her heart thumps loudly in her chest as she locates a door.

It doesn't hold her liberation. She squints into the darkness and makes out four walls. No windows.

And then she's reeling back.

Her fingers scrape along a bricked wall as her feet propel her further, seeking out her escape.

She soon finds the exit. There's no doubt in her mind that this door is the way out.

But her initial excitement at reaching her destination is quick to wane because she's pulling on the handle and it won't budge.

And in all of a second her confidence that this would all soon be over deteriorates.

She screeches, her bawled fists pummelling into the hard surface as she wails for help. Help that isn't coming.

Her voice is thick and quickly becomes hoarse and then she's kicking and hitting at the door of her prison.

She doesn't stop.

Adrenaline fuels her.

And in her crazed breakdown she doesn't hear him approach, had almost forgotten his presence.

His touch startles her.

His fingers curl around her slight upper arms, stopping her attack on the hard door and she yells out in surprise.

She suddenly feels most stupid. Because she knows. Knows he didn't even attempt to follow her on her bid for freedom. Because he knew, knew all too well that she couldn't leave. She wonders if he's just been watching on in entertainment.

Her face crumples and then the tears unleash and she can't stop.

His hands rub up and down her arms and he hushes her softly.

'Come on sweetheart, calm down'

'Let me g-g-go. P-pl-please!'

'Shh' He turns her away from the door and one of his supportive hands leaves her for a second. He locates a light switch and suddenly the dim cell is no more.

She squints, her eyes sensitive to the light.

'Why don't we sit down hey? And you can have a proper tour in the actual light in a minute'

She blinks repetitively, her vision blurry with tears. Despite her obscured vision she can decipher the parts of the vicinity that mere moments ago she could not.

It's an open living space with kitchen and sitting room area. For a moment she's hopeful that she's in a condo and people could be lingering nearby. But the lack of windows is quickly painfully apparent. It's immaculate. There's a familiar smell in the air. A smell that she's always associated fond memories with; it's paint. She knows this moment will override any of those previous mental connections. A freshly decorated room will forever more make her queasy.

Her body stiffens uncooperatively as he tries to guide her toward the sofa that sits in the middle of this lair but moving away from the exit doesn't bode well with her and she cements her feet to the floor.

'Sweetheart the only way you're getting out that door is if I unlock it, and I'm not going to do that' He coos in her ear. 'So you're wasting your time'

She clenches her eyes shut tight as her anxiety hits an all time high and has her body trembling uncontrollably.

'I-where- where are we?'

'Lets sit you down and then we'll talk' He assertively walks her across the carpeted floor and her feet drag beneath her; a combination of her refusal to comply and fatigue.

She's only aware of how much she was struggling to stand when she's seated once more.

'There we go' He smiles at her and she looks away in revulsion. He either doesn't see or chooses not to react. Instead he reaches for a prepared glass of water that sits on the wooden coffee table that's within arms reach. 'Here' He holds it out to her and she doesn't want to accept anything from him but her mouth is so very dry and she's concerned if she doesn't accept she might wind up loosing consciousness again, something that doesn't bode well.

She drinks it all. Every last drop and it almost instantly has an effect; her dizziness subsides a little and she tries to collect herself and think rationally.

'Derek what are you doing?' Her voice musters croakily. 'Y-you can't do this. You k-know you can't. Th-there's going to b-be people l-looking for me a-and wh-when they f-find me, y-you'll be t-taken away. They'll put y-you in prison'

'I'm not going anywhere sweetheart. You don't have to worry about that. You and I can be together here. Forever. Just like it should be' He grapples at her hands, his fingers squeezing hers tightly when she tries to wriggle them out of his hold. 'I'm only sorry it took me so long to make all these preparations. But I think the time we've had apart, it's been good you know? For the both of us. I know I screwed up last time, I know I went about things all wrong Peyton. You had a right to be scared. But look at this place, look what I've done for you. This proves how I'm dedicated to us'

She shakes her head back and forth wearily. She doesn't know what she can possibly say to make him see sense because everything he's saying is completely deranged in her eyes.

'Y-you c-can't just, just take me Derek'

'I had to baby. I had to. Don't you see? There were too many interfering factors-'

'Like what?! My boyfriend?!' She exclaims incredulously, trying to tug her hands out of his vice like grip as she spits out her next words. 'He's a fucking interfering factor alright! Because I w-want him to be. Because I want him! Because I don't want you! I want him!' Her disbelief has gotten the better of her, her words spouting out recklessly.

His fingers squeeze hers together painfully in answer and she grimaces.

'You're confused. I get that. That's why I had to get you out of there baby' His jaw is tense and he fights his desire to shake her because she's meant to be grateful for everything he's done. He's worked so hard to make this a liveable space, to make it nice for her, for them. He's constantly been reminding himself that this isn't going to be plain sailing, that this transition is going to be difficult for her but despite his objective expectations, disappointment is still hard to disguise. 'He's not good for you. Tonight alone proves that. He just left. He gave up on you. I'd never give up on you!' He declares.

And she can't keep her mouth shut in spite of her fear. She can't stay quiet because he's wrong. 'He respects me! Something you clearly can't comprehend! He doesn't force me to go anywhere or do anything!'

'I think we shouldn't discuss this right now. I don't want to ruin our night. Tonight is meant to be special. Loving someone means doing anything for them and you might not be able to see what's right in front of you, but I see enough for the both of us. And you'll realise, you will. I gave you reason not to trust me but I'll never leave you again, I promise you sweetheart. Never.'

'The police, they'll find me-'

'No one is going to find us sweetheart' His certainty makes her nauseous. 'Not here'

'Where am I?!'

'Where you're meant to be. Here, with me' He proclaims.

'Aren't you listening to me?' She shouts lividly. 'What don't you get? I don't want to be here with you Derek! You're crazy. You told me you were my brother, you lied and you just expect me to be happy that you've kidnapped me and are holding me hostage!' As quickly as her temper arose, it's gone and her next words are muttered and defeated. 'I'm meant to be at prom...meant to be the best night... with my friends. With Luke'

He doesn't catch all of her disheartened mumblings but he does decipher the last word to leave her mouth.

And it's that very exhalation of Lucas' name that has him rising to his feet and jerking her from her seat.

She shrieks, alarmed by his sudden action.

'Don't you say his name'

His barked words travel right through her and make the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

She whimpers and averts her eyes away from the frightening black pair that are glowering at her and her feet flail beneath her, trying to find purchase on the ground; His strength is suddenly more than apparent as he effortlessly holds her at his eye line, consequently her toes barely touching the floor.

She'd once known this man, at least she'd thought she had. Only this person does not resemble that man in the slightest. And it's completely disorientating, not to mention petrifying. Because there are glimpses of the person she'd thought was good; the odd smile, the odd look. And it's those familiar actions have her hopeful that this can all be rectified. But it's the moments like the current that have her disconsolate because this stranger before her, he's unpredictable and strong and she can see a dark brutality in his eyes that has her fearful of what he's capable of.

'W-what a-are you doing?'

He's let her bare feet find the ground but she's barely blinked when he's dragging her toward the room she'd located in her failed escape. She trips and stumbles and she scrambles to keep up because she thinks if she falls he'll literally pull her arm out of its socket.

He doesn't answer and his silence only makes her more anxious.

'Derek!' She pleas as she's hauled into the dark room.

He shuts the door and she suddenly can't see anything and she feels like she's five years old and anticipating the monster beneath the bed to come pouncing out at her. Only there's no such thing as monsters under the bed, just your average deranged psychopath...and she has one on the end of her arm and her breathing becomes haphazard again as she awaits for his aims to become clear.

Small lights suddenly twinkle on, providing a subtle glow and her stare flutters around the room before finding her captor.

'Do you like it?' He wonders.

She doesn't know if it's a trick question after his outburst just seconds ago, she doesn't know what the right answer is.

'You can forget about the prom. Our night means something much more than a stupid dance. Our night is special' He declares. 'Our night celebrates our love'

She swallows thickly, her eyes looking back to the bed with its fairy lights draped around the bed head.

In her evaluation of his intentions he moves so he's standing behind her, his hands encircling her little waist. And it's then, in that very moment that she knows what he wants from _their_ night together.

Her clammy hands wrestle with the fingers that have locked at her middle. 'Get off'

He doesn't. His fingers constrict around her and tug until her back is pressed flush against his chest.

'No' She bleats hysterically.

'Baby relax' Derek hums, his tone the polar opposite to her frantic voice. He latches his chin over her shoulder and sways her calmingly. But she can't be calmed. 'Mm I missed that smell'

A sound of disgust passes her trembling lips and she tries in vain to lurch forward.

'You're so beautiful'

Her brow furrows because the last thing she feels is beautiful. She had earlier. While she'd been getting ready, while she'd been fixing her hair, a smile at her lips. She'd imagined Lucas' sweet smile, imagined the sweet words he'd undoubtably say to her when she opened the door to him. She'd imagined that look that he'd give her, that look that made her weak at the knees.

But now she just feels dirty and disloyal and the white dress that she'd picked out with the hopes that Lucas would like it is suddenly her worst enemy.

In her attempts to dodge Derek's touch, the beaded strap has slipped from her shoulder. One of his hands smoothes up her side, hooking beneath the garment and sliding the strap back into place and the more of her his hands touch, the more she feels like she's being suffocated.

'Let me go, please let me go.'

She wonders how he can possibly find any of this pleasurable if he loves her so much as he claims because she's so clearly not sanctioning his close proximity nor his touchy hands and her distraught pleading is on a continuous loop.

He's invested so much time in her, in watching her every move, in preparing for this moment that he's convinced he knows her better than she does herself. He's convinced of her feelings. He's unable to see that this is an infatuation on his part only. So obsessed is he, that he's justifying her tears as tears of salvation. Because he's saved her, he's saved her from the lonely, empty life she'd been living. Because that's what it was, without him she'd been incomplete. And it's bound to be more than overwhelming. She'd been using Lucas, she might not have realised it yet but she'd been filling a void. He was there at the right time, in the right place, but now, now she had to let him go and Derek was determined to try and be patient. He'd just snapped at her, he'd lost himself for a moment, lost himself to jealousy but he knows, he knows it's not her fault. She's kindhearted and he knows letting someone else down will inevitably hurt her.

'It's okay baby. It's alright now. We're together, and that's all that matters'

He manoeuvres her and as he turns her to face him she strives to break free.

He grunts as her foot kicks his shin and her hands press into his chest. Her determination has his firm hold on her lapsing for just a second and she takes that second to try and duck out of his hold.

She doesn't get far. He snatches her arm, putting a stop to her fleeing body and she feels so small and pathetic as she's easily spun back around.

She yelps and tries to kick out her legs again but this time he's anticipating her flying limbs and it takes one swift push to send her toppling backward onto the bed.

She gasps as she hits the mattress, her head spinning as her vision tries to refocus due to her sudden horizontal position.

She blinks and is about to try and get up when he's suddenly on her, his heavy weight pinning her down.

Everything is happening too fast, she can't keep up and she screams out in both distress and frustration, straining her trapped frame.

'Sweetheart shh' He catches her clawing hands and presses them down beside her head. 'Shh'

His face is suddenly too near and she stops exerting herself in favour of twisting her head to avoid anymore unwelcome contact. And her plight suddenly seems imminent because she can't move and she can feel his hot breath on the side of her face and he's not listening and he's clearly unconcerned by her protests. And with that realisation she becomes rigid and silent. She tries to pretend she can't feel his mouth trailing down her neck and wonders what the time is, she wonders if prom is over? She wonders if anyone has noticed she's missing yet. She wonders how many missed calls she has from Lucas. Lucas. She clenches her eyes shut tight, her nostrils flaring as she swallows a sob at the thought of him.

'Mm, I want you so bad' His voice husks in her ear as his hands start to work the fabric of her dress up.

'Oh god' She's shivering beneath him now, her heart pummelling in her chest. 'Please' She begs,her disposition suddenly morphing erratically as she attempts to use her intelligence and use every tactic she can to succeed in getting herself out of this. One minute she's angry and demanding. The next crying. Then reasoning and begging. 'Derek please. Please stop. Please don't'

'Shhhh. Darling you don't need to be scared'

'What the fuck is wrong with you?' She curses and then she's straining herself against him. 'Let me fucking go' She screeches loudly, so loudly that it hurts her throat and his ears.

'No one can hear you' He feels the need to point out.

'Please don't hurt me' Her anger is gone and her fear is palpable.

'I'm not going to hurt you darling. I want to show you how much I love you' His fingers have found the bare skin of her thighs and are stroking up and down and her face screws up as she tries her hand at being understanding. 'Okay' She nods. 'Okay, but, but I'm, I'm not ready Derek. You, you lied to me, I thought you were my brother and, and it, it's going to take time. You can't expect...you have to give me time'

'I did baby. I went away. I know I went about things the wrong way before but I learnt my lesson. I did. I won't lie to you ever again' He eases her dress up further and her hands spring to cover his.

'Don't do that. Lets, lets just talk about this' she reasons.

'Actions are bigger than words baby. And I did this, I found this place. I set it all up. All of it is for you, so we can be together without anyone getting in the way'

'But-but Derek you, you came into my house, you, you drugged me. You've taken me away from my home' Her voice wobbles. 'You can't just do that'

'You wouldn't of come if I'd asked' He defends his actions.

'You don't know that' she licks her dry lips. 'You don't know. But if I'd declined then that would have been my choice, my right-'

'Shhh. You don't understand. You're confused. _He's_ in your head but after a little while you'll see' He returns to trying to hike her dress up and she snatches at his hands again.

'I want to. I want to be with you like this' He smiles at that. 'B-but it's too soon'

'We've waited long enough' He disputes. 'I've made it so special'

'Derek I'm with Lucas' She exhales shakily. 'I'm, I'm Lucas' girlfriend. I only want to do this with him'

'Don't say that. Don't fucking say that. That jackass doesn't deserve you. He doesn't appreciate you like I do' He struggles to maintain the understanding patience he'd assured himself he would endeavour to have when it came to the subject of Lucas Scott.

'I love him' She whimpers.

'No you don't. You love me. You just need to stop fighting it. You need to trust me'

'Trust you?! Derek you're trying to force me to do things I don't want to! You're locking me up in this, this place and trying to rape me' She growls.

'No. We're going to make love' He corrects her.

'That's not what this is!' She exclaims. 'I don't want this. I'm saying no and you're not listening'

'I'm listening'

'But you're ignoring! What's wrong with you? How don't you understand?'

'I do understand. I understand that you're nervous. That you don't want to hurt Lucas and follow your heart. And love, it is scary but once you let go and embrace it- it's the best thing in the world and you'll realise then. You'll see that you're mine Peyton. You belong to me. We're meant to be together.'

'You're deluded' She breathes.

And he's done talking and her hands can't find purchase on him any longer, he easily brushes her interfering fingers away and jerks the material that covers her legs up.

It makes a loud ripping sound that has her fretfully shrieking in protest.

'Mm' His eyes turn impossibly darker and he licks his lips as he takes in her silky blue briefs; the underwear she'd picked out for Lucas, the underwear she'd bought with the intention of wearing when they first did this. Tonight was meant to be that night. Tonight was meant to be so many things, not this.

'Stop it' She cries as he effortlessly shifts her legs further apart. She tries to sit up but he's soon atop of her again, pressing himself against her and he's hard and she takes a shaky breath, instinctively pushing herself back into the mattress.

She feels so weak and feeble. He's too strong. Too big.

'Can you feel how much I want you baby?'

She grits her teeth together and her inability to defend herself has that rage swelling deep inside her again and her fingers lurch out, clawing at his face.

He hisses as her nails scratch him.

'Fuck Peyton' He hastily hinders her feral attack, restraining her wrists above her head, albeit with difficulty. Once in place he easily holds them there with one hand, his other going to investigate the stinging spot on his cheek. His fingertips ghost over the scratch and he's surprised to see a speckle of blood when he lowers his hand for inspection. 'That wasn't very nice baby'

She feels a small sense of satisfaction as he looks down at her but it soon dwindles because he's unbuckling his pants.

'But I forgive you' He smiles and tilts his head until his nose caresses hers. She closes her eyes as he leaves a sweet kiss on her lips and she's so wrapped up in anticipating his tongue trying to seek entrance that for a moment she doesn't realise he's released her hands.

When she opens her eyes he's sat back on his legs and is tugging his shirt free from his pants and tugging it over his head and she quickly reacts, taking the opportunity to try and escape.

Leaning up on her forearms she hastily shifts herself backward, her hands reaching for the edge of the bed to help pull her vulnerable body away from him.

She doesn't get far.

His hands snare her calves and yank her back beneath him and his body weight settles completely against her again to prevent any further bid for freedom.

'Shh' He coos. 'You're working yourself up. It's nothing to be afraid of baby. This is completely natural'

She shakes her head and covers her eyes with her hands because nothing about this feels natural. He's controlling and powerful and she's weak and she wants to hide. She wants to pretend this isn't happening. Maybe if she wills it enough she'll wake up and Lucas will be knocking at her door and she'll go to prom and it will be perfect and then he'll take her home and it will just be them.

'You've done this before right?'

Her face contorts and a sob passes her trembling lips. Because she doesn't want to do _this_. She hasn't done _this_ before because _this_ is her being forced and she's never experienced that. She's experienced cautious hands of inexperienced lovers, she's experienced tenderness and lust. _This_ can't be likened to any of her previous experiences.

'I know you've not with Lucas'

She dreads to think how he can possibly know that.

'You might not of realised it but you couldn't. You couldn't give yourself to him. Because your body knows it belongs to me'

She gasps for breath. She feels like she's hyperventilating.

'But you've not only dated Lucas. There's been others. Did you let any of the others have you?' He pulls her shielding hands away from her face and the exposing of her splotchy cheeks only makes her cries grow louder. 'Shhh baby, come on, calm down. Breathe'

He runs his hand repetitively over her forehead and she wishes he'd stop because it reminds her of being a child, it reminds her of being unwell and her doting mother sitting with her and the last thing she wants is to liken him to her. She doesn't even want to think about her looking down on her right now.

'You let Nathan fuck you didn't you? And Jake' He declares. Her eyes expand because she doesn't know how he knows these things about her 'This is different baby. This is going to be so much better because we're soul mates'

His lips suddenly seek out hers and her hands dart out, reaching for his face and trying to push him away.

None of it feels good.

She's become use to the delightful feel of Lucas' mouth where this man's unfamiliar touch now is. It's not sending a tingling through her, it's not making her want him closer, it's not making her sigh and feel like jelly. She's stiff and the pressure of his lips is bruising, not in the good way and his lower half keeps sporadically bucking against her and every time she takes a shuddering breath and hopes this will be enough, that this will appease him. Maybe if she lets him grope her for a bit he'll stop.

'You have no idea how long I've waited for this. For us' He pants and she tries to deflect his nearing mouth. 'It's so good to be able to touch you like I've been itching to since we met' He smiles. 'It's been torture'

She tilts her head again to dodge his insistently nearing face yet again but his hand catches her cheeks, cupping her face. 'You're being a tease'

'No' She disagrees. 'I just think I might throw up because you make me sick'

He's serious and she thinks she's done it. She thinks she's finally pushed him too far and he's going to strike her for the second time tonight. But he's soon smiling. But it's not kind. And his thumb hooks over her bottom lip and pulls her mouth open and then his tongue is lewdly tracing her lips before dipping into her mouth and assertively finding her own.

She moans in protest but instantly stops when she's sure it's only provoking him; he rocks against her, his hardness probing where he wants to be most and the last place she wants him.

She's thankful when he finally withdraws from her mouth. She takes a much in need breath and turns her head away to avoid him finding her mouth again and hopes if she closes her eyes she'll soon be waking up from this nightmare.

His fingers are suddenly between them though and she cringes at the feeling of his digits clumsily moving her underwear to the side.

She's not wet. And he spits on his hand and a whimper of disgust escapes her as he rubs his moistened digits back between her legs.

'You like that don't you baby?' He deduces his own interpretation of her mortified moan. The way he's tugged her briefs to the side has the waistband digging into her but that's the least of her concerns. Her brain and mouth have shut down, no longer working in unison because his fingers are gone and in less than a second he's _there_. And no one, not a single person has touched her there, like this, without her consent.

And she digs her fingers into any flesh she can get a hold of but it's not having any effect this time round. He's too lost in his arousal to notice.

Her attack ceases when he thrusts his hips against her.

It stills her completely; shock jarring through her.

He's barely inside her when he meets resistance.

Her eyes open abruptly and a new set of breathy pleas escape her. 'Derek, wait. Please I'm not ready. Just, just wait a minute-'

He can't though. He's beside himself, she's so warm and tight and he jerks against her, pushing all the way in.

Her eyes bug out, her vision blurring.

And this isn't a nightmare. She knows she's not going to wake up. There's no way her mind could ever have conjured up this kind of pain.

It's surreal.

Because she's had sex and it's never felt anything like this. He was right when he said it wouldn't be like any of the other times; this is the polar opposite of what she's come to associate with the act. It's not affection. It's not pleasure. It's not love.

She gasps as he pulls back, withdrawing from her uncooperative body nearly completely.

Her walls aren't slick with her desire, they're not hospitable and she cries out as he thrusts back into her, stretching her.

'P-please st-stop' She breathes shakily through trembling lips. 'y-you're h-hurtin-g m-me'

'Shh' He hushes her, deaf to her words. 'You feel so good baby. So tight.'

Her pleas eventually dwindle.

His looming figure, rocking above her blurs, her tears blinding her and she tries to go somewhere else. Tries to disassociate herself from the violating act that is going on. She's heard of that. She's heard of victims blocking out trauma to save themselves from the pain but she can't escape because every time his lower half jerks against her it burns and she's jarred against the bed.

She counts instead.

_one mississippi. two mississippi...three mississippi. four mississippi..._

He drops his face into the crook of her neck and his breath is heavy and his movements are more haphazard and she hopes it's nearly over.

Her body has completely succumbed, no longer rigid, no longer fighting; compliant is less painful...or maybe she's just numb.

She looks up at the ceiling.

_one hundred and three mississippi...one hundred and four mississippi...one hundred and five mississippi..._

He grunts. She winces as he sucks at her neck and she hates him impossibly more because she doesn't want a reminder of this. She wants to pretend this never happened.

_one hundred and seventy seven mississippi...one hundred and seventy eight mississippi...one hundred and seventy nine mississippi..._

He hikes her leg up higher, hooking it round his waist and her hands bawl into the bedsheets beneath her and for a moment she thinks this is the end, that this is surely going to kill her.

_two hundred and eighty mississippi...two hundred and eighty one mississippi...two hundred and eighty two mississippi...__  
_

And then it's over.

He collapses on her for a long moment and she doesn't breathe.

And when he eventually withdraws, slumping at her side, she doesn't feel relief.

She grimaces at the unpleasant feeling between her legs.

She feels dirty. She feels exhausted. She aches all over. She feels distinctively unlike herself. Because he's taken something. She doesn't know what. But she's numb and she's broken and she doesn't know if there's any coming back from this. Because if there's a heaven, there's a hell and she's surely in it.


	2. Chapter 2

'Lucas this isn't right, I'm telling you'

'Are you sure she didn't see you and just sneak out the back Brooke? She's pretty cut up about everything that happened' Lucas rationalises. 'Cut up enough not to want to come to prom with me'

'Luke her car is in the drive, you know what she's been like since that whole psycho Derek incident, she wouldn't go walking anywhere by herself, not when it's dark. And her curling iron was on and I can't find her dress which suggests she's wearing it, which suggests she was intending to come. I know we're not on great terms but I still know her and we've been talking about prom since we were eight. She went to the effort of writing whore on my dress- you think she'd give up the chance to see that?'

Lucas' brow furrows, an uneasy feeling quickly forming in the pit of his belly. 'She wrote whore on your dress?' He squints as his eyes trail down her.

'It only shows up in the UV light' Brooke wavers her hand dismissively.

Lucas blinks because he knows she's right. Peyton wouldn't have missed the opportunity of seeing her art work exhibited.

'When did you last see her?'

'This afternoon' He answers, moving further into the seemingly empty house. 'I told her I hoped she'd change her mind and I'd come and knock for her and if she answered I knew we'd have a really great time...she didn't answer the door...I took that as she wasn't coming, you know how stubborn she can be' He mutters. 'Peyton?!' He calls out abruptly.

'She's not here Luke' Brooke exhales. 'I've searched, even in her creepy basement.'

'Okay...okay. I want you to contact everyone. Ask if they've heard from her, anything, anything at all' He orders.

She senses his escalating concern and quickly does as instructed, keeping one eye on him as he begins to scour the downstairs hallway.

He blindly retrieves his own phone from his pocket and dials Peyton's number, but after six rings it goes to voicemail just as it has the past eight times he's tried it. 'Okay Peyt, you're starting to really worry me. I'm at your house and you're not here. I know Brooke's not your favourite person right now but if you've run off cause she turned up here you need to let me know because it's not funny. I'm worried. She's worried...I love you Peyton...please call me' He hangs up and returns to looking for any kind of indication as to where she could be.

'Brooke?'

The brunette looks up from her phone screen. 'Yes?'

'Look, these are beads right?' He's crouched down on the floor, inspecting the scattering of pearly white gems. 'I saw her dress briefly earlier-'

'They're off it' Brooke cuts him off. 'She sent Hales a picture the other day, I saw it. They're off it. So she caught her dress on something and she pulled a few beads off that doesn't-'

'Look' He interrupts her theorising, running his hand over the wood on the bottom of the front door.

Brooke squats down beside him to join him in surveying the dirty defects in the white paint. 'That could of been there before Luke-'

'I'm sure it wasn't'

'How can you possibly know that? It could be scuff marks just from everyday wear and tear right?'

He doesn't know who she's trying to convince more, him or herself because she was the one that rung him half an hour ago rambling on and on that something was seriously wrong.

'Did you find anything out from anyone?'

'No. Not yet. No one has seen her' Brooke reports sullenly.

'Move a sec'

She rises back to her feet and shifts out of the way, watching on as he presses his ear to the floor and peers under the table that runs along the adjacent wall.

'Ring her phone Brooke'

'I thought you just tri-'

'Just do it Brooke!'

'Okay, okay I'm sorry I'm doing it' She fumbles with her cell.

And his heart sinks as he makes out a small light suddenly flickering in the darkness.

'It's ringing' Brooke announces as she holds her phone to her ear and listens to the repetitive noise.

'I know' He sighs, scrambling to his knees and moving to the far end of the table. He stretches his arm behind the back leg and grapples around for a moment before catching hold of something.

Brooke nervously waits as he slowly rises back to his feet, a thin white strap in hand and then he's reeling it up and a little dusty pouch finally appears from behind the obscuring table. A light emits from it, silently coinciding with the noise that's sounding in her ear.

She lowers her phone, swallowing thickly and biting her lip as Lucas tips the contents of the small pocket into his hand.

Peyton's front door key on a miniature comet key chain falls into his palm along with her cellphone and ID card.

Lucas flips open the cell, his mouth dry as he notes the cracked screen. It distorts the display somewhat but it still appears to be functioning as he manages to pin in her password and access the menu.

'Look in the phone log-'

'I am' He squints down, trying to decipher the partially readable screen. 'Hales...me...Nate...her dad...me...me.. that's the last one, that was this afternoon'

'What about texts?' She peers over his shoulder and joins him in scanning her inbox as best they can.

'Okay I'm the last one- I text her a couple of times a while ago pleading her to come' He sighs because he'd hoped there'd be some clue as to her whereabouts but they're none the wiser.

'Wait' Brooke stops him from snapping the cell closed. 'Scroll down-'

'That's the last one-'

'No, look at the bit where you write a message'

Lucas drags his finger over the screen in an upward motion until the section Brooke specified is above the cracked portion of the display.

An unfinished text is revealed to them. One word blinking up at then. HELP.

LPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLP

She blinks.

She doesn't know if she's been asleep or if she's just been staring blankly at the ceiling. She's lost all sense of time and reality.

She wonders if it was dream. All of it. A horrible nightmare.

The glow of the twinkling fairy lights above the bed cast a deceiving warm light over her. They remind her of being little, remind her of that feeling that anything is possible, that magic is real and father Christmas will always visit come Christmas eve.

She fixates on those lights, fixates on the thought that everything is going to be okay.

She twitches her fingers at her side; she's been laying tense and unmoving for so long that it's like her limbs are paralysed and she has to coax them into coming back to life.

Her hand eventually moves sluggishly, creeping from its resting place and inching over her stiff body.

Her dress is crumpled and bunched up at her waist and her fingers venture over the layers of white chiffon with hesitancy until they finally reach the creamy expanse that is her stomach. It is only when they come into contact with her goose-pimple covered skin that she's instantly aware of how numbingly cold she is.

She takes a shuddering breath and her hand descends lower...lower...her underwear is askew, twisted uncomfortably to the side. She cautiously slips her finger under the waistband to reposition the material and it's only when they're adjusted that she can feel a soreness where the elastic has been impressed into her skin.

She bites her lip and slides her hand lower to rearrange the triangle of silky fabric that is meant to protect her modesty but she's quick to find that the section of material is no more, torn in the undeniable act.

Her teeth chatter as it becomes more impossible to persuade herself that this is a dream, could ever have been a dream.

She blinks. She's hesitant to continue her inspection, afraid of the outcome.

She pushes her tongue to the roof of her mouth and exhales heavily through her nose before bravely resuming her fingers descent.

Her legs instinctively shift further apart and an involuntary hiss passes her trembling lips at the slight movement.

Humiliation swells in her chest as her fingers become coated in a stickiness and her hand quickly retracts like she's been burnt.

A lump is quick to from in the back of her throat as she brings her arm up into the glow of the fairy lights.

And she hates those lights. Nothing is okay.

Her fingertips glisten with a mixture of blood and a whitish substance that has her haphazardly sitting up and balling her hand in the fabric of her dress in revulsion.

She disregards the shooting pain between her legs, has to because she needs her hand to be clean, needs _that_ off of her. And she hates this dress. She wants it off too, wants to burn it. And she wants to stand under a hot shower until her skin is red raw and she can't feel him...or anything he's left on her. Bile is rising in the back of her throat, she gulps, willing it to subside but it can't be stopped, it's out of her control.

She scrambles, slipping off of the bed and no sooner have her knees hit the hard floor is she coughing up the contents of her stomach.

Her eyes water as she tries to rasp in oxygen between heaving.

It's violent and unrelenting and it's only when it eventually abates a long couple of minutes later that she's aware of the two strong hands supporting her frail form and holding her hair back.

And just like that her stomach turns and another bout of nausea hits her.

LPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLP

'What do you mean he was never remanded?' Lucas expels. 'She got a phone call saying that you got him'

'I'm afraid we have absolutely no record of this. She must have been mistaken, there's still a warrant out for his arrest. As you know the man claiming to be your girlfriend' brother was in fact not and asides from Peyton's statement we don't have a lot to go on in finding him, she was made aware of this'

'So what you're saying is he's still out there? That this psycho is still walking the streets?' Lucas' voice reaches a crescendo.

'Son do try to stay calm-'

'He's got her' He blurts certainly. 'He's taken her. You have to do something-'

'Lucas I get that you're worried but Peyton isn't even officially a missing person as of yet' The officer states gently.

'Aren't you listening to anything we've been telling you?' Brooke cries indignantly, unable to keep quiet any longer because it feels like they've been here for forever and they're just going round in circles. 'She's missing!'

'Miss, a person has to be absent for at least twenty four hours before they can be classified as missing'

'But this is different' Lucas barks. 'You have a record of what happened- you know that she had this stalker, you know he attacked her. And now she's gone, her phone was smashed up and she tried to text me for help. We came here concerned that she was missing but now you tell me that sick psychopath is still out there, what more evidence do you need? He's kidnapped her. He's taken her'

'Try and stay calm-'

'Stop telling me to stay calm!'

'Listen, I'll come take a look at the house with one of other officers on duty and see if we can find some more substantial evidence other than your gut feeling on this and we'll check out her phone but right now that's all I can do okay?'

Lucas scrapes his fingers through his hair in frustration.

'The best thing you kids can do is go home and sit by the phone. Come on, take a seat for a second while I go get one of my colleagues - we'll give you a lift on the way over to her house' He smiles sympathetically and Brooke is pretty sure if the dividing glass screen wasn't there she'd be more than tempted to throw her tiny hand into his face because she feels like their concerns aren't being taken seriously. She feels like her friend's life could potentially be in danger.

'It's all my fault' Lucas' muttered words garner her attention.

'What?'

'I should have been there' He repeats sadly.

'Luke don't do that, it's not your fault. It's no one's fault. Okay? We'll find her, we will'

'I've been so wrapped up in other shit, about finding Keith's killer, I've not been looking after her. She's still here. He's not. He doesn't need protecting, she does'

'Lucas this isn't your fault. It's not. If we're going to play the blame game it should be me- I was the reason she said she didn't want to go to prom in the first place. If none of that shit had happened you wouldn't have left without her because she wouldn't have been upset this afternoon. You would have known something was wrong'

'It's not your fault...' He sighs. He sees her point; they could all place blame on themselves but it wouldn't change anything. 'I feel so useless...god if he's got her Brooke...if he hurts her...I swear...' He shakes his head.

'Don't think it Luke. Don't. Lets just try to be optimistic. By morning she'll be with us and we'll all be laughing about this' They both know that's not true. Because, even if she were to turn up suddenly there was nothing funny about this situation. 'I'll tell her I'm sorry for all the stupid shit that's come between us lately. I'll tell her how important she is to me and how much I love her. And how she'll always be my best friend'

He nods. 'She knows all that deep down Brooke.' He knows that much. 'I'll tell her how much I love her. I've not told her that enough lately. I didn't want to bring her down with all this Keith stuff... but I have...by not confiding in her, she probably thinks I've been loosing interest-'

'She doesn't think that Luke' Brooke assures him. 'You don't have to tell her what you're thinking...you two, you've always had this thing, this intangible thing, like you can speak without saying a single word to each other...wherever she is right now, I know she knows you love her'

LPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLP

'Who are you?' She's slouched back against the bed, her head resting on the edge of the mattress. Her violent sickness has subsided and despite her relief, she feels horribly lethargic and feeble. Her hair is strewn over her face and her dress is scrunched up and soiled; she doesn't look like the girl that had opened her front door to this man less than twenty four hours ago.

'What sweetheart?' He's on his knees in front of her, a cold flannel in his hands and he attentively drapes it over her clammy forehead.

She doesn't have the energy to shy away from his touch. 'You're not Derek Sommers are you? I've met my brother now. And you're not him' She vehemently declares.

He looks into her eyes then. She's not spoken a word, not since she screamed at him to get off of her in between her retching. She's been sat silently while he's diligently cleaned up her vomit, regardless of any attempt he's made at conversing with her.

'Ian' He answers. 'My name is Ian'

Her nose scrunches up, there's a distinct smell of cleaning products in the air and it's not helping her unsettled stomach. She averts her stare away from him because he's looking at her with sweetness and consideration as he tends to her and she doesn't want him nursing to her, not when he's the reason she's in this state.

'Ian what?' She closes her eyes.

'Banks'

Ian Banks. Ian Banks.

He'd been Derek, then Psycho Derek and then a nameless stalker that had occupied her dreams, corrupting them into nightmares.

But now he has a name.

'The police never got you did they' She states. She's not stupid, although she thinks perhaps she is because she'd not questioned the phone call she'd received, not once. She'd felt so light, so free when she'd received that call because she was safe and overnight he'd been slain, prevented from violating her thoughts and dreams any longer.

'You had too many people watching over you, I wasn't sure it would work. I thought your father would at least want to have a conversation with the cops but you bought it, you all bought it' He discloses jubilantly.

She didn't tell her father, despite Lucas trying to persuade her otherwise. She'd not told him about a single part of it. He'd been stuck at sea at the time and she'd not wanted to worry him unnecessarily. She'd give anything to go back to that time. She'd tell him. She'd tell him absolutely everything. He'd have come home and he would have made sure she was safe. He wouldn't have been naive like her.

'Why me?' Her eyes flutter open as she blurts the question. 'Why did you choose me? Why me?' Tears well and her voice wobbles.

'It's not a choice baby, we need each other. I knew, I knew from the second I saw you on your webcam. You were talking to me-'

'I wasn't. I wasn't' She rocks her head back and forth. 'I didn't, I didn't ask for this-'

'You spoke to me in your podcasts-'

'I wasn't, I wasn't speaking to you. I was, I was just...I've not done that in ages...I was...that, I'm not that girl anymore, I'm not her-'

'Yes you are, of course you are'

'No, I, I...-'

'You were lonely and you were calling to me. You didn't know it but you were and I found you' He devotedly removes the wet flannel from her forehead, his hand replacing it and pushing her now damp hair back from her face.

She recoils at his touch. 'I was lonely' She admits softly. 'And I was unhappy-'

'I know but you're not going to be anymore baby'

'No' She looks at him pleading. 'I was unhappy Der- Ian' She swallows thickly. 'I'd lost my biological Mum, my Dad was away...Everything with Ellie just bought back everything with my Mum's death too and I...I was grieving' She musters quietly. She wants to push his hand off of her face but she resists from doing so. 'Everything got better though. Until yesterday I was the happiest I've been in a long while-'

'You weren't. You've been fighting with that good for nothing best friend-'

'That's just stupid high school stuff Derek-Ian. We'll get over it' She insists. She tries to read his undecipherable expression. 'I want to go home' She meekly declares. 'Please let me go home, I just want to go home' His jaw stiffens and she takes a shuddering breath. 'I won't tell. I swear I won't. I won't tell anyone. I won't tell anyone anything. Please let me go home . I want to go home, please. You'll let me go home now won't you?'

He emits a heavy breath and she braces herself, apprehensively awaiting a response.

The tense silence fills her with hope and she almost convinces herself that he looks like he may be conceding.

He smiles sadly and then leans in, pressing his forehead to hers and she waits with baited breath.

'Baby' 'He coos, his fingers running through her tangled locks. 'The thing is, you're already home'

Despair ensnares her, his words summoning a harrowing cry to expel from the back of her throat and all pretences of calm that she'd been stoically upholding cracks.

The muscles in her arms constrict as she balls her smaller hands against him furiously. 'Get off! Get off me! Get off' She shrieks at him and she can't stop. Regardless of her exhausted body; she uses every last ounce of strength to try and put some space between them because having him near her, his hands on her, it's all intolerable. Her words are deafening at first but as she chants manically at him they soon become croaked and stuttered between sobs. 'Y-you c-can't, c-can't. L-let m-me g-go'

He doesn't.

He easily deflects her hits, holding strong as she completely breaks down.

She doesn't stop; Every time he thinks she's finally succumbing to exhaustion her wailing becomes hysterical.

'Shh' His consoling coos are anything but soothing and only spur her to prevail against the tempting drowsiness that is urging her to admit defeat.

Her joust to evade him eventually has her sprawled on the floor and when she notes the needle in his hand she actually feels relief.

'That's it. I'm gonna help you calm down baby' He hushes as she stills. Her eyes fixate on the little glass syringe and she briefly thinks that she should be fighting harder than ever because she's clueless as to what this stuff is that he's injecting into her arm. But she welcomes it. The needle pricks her and it's quick. She doesn't fight it like before, she wills it to take her away, to muffle out his voice. He eyes droop. Her racing heart slows to a steady thump. And then there's darkness; it assails all of her senses and this is better. She's safer here, protected from the world, protected from him and her last fleeting thought is, she hopes to god she never wakes up.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N Thanks to you readers that are sticking with me and thanks to those of you that have left kind words! I know it's dark, dark angst but there will be light at the end of the tunnel...eventually...maybe!

'Lucas I'm sure-'

'Do not tell me everything is going to be okay right now Mum. Seriously, if I-'

'Hey, hey, hey' Karen cuts him off, her arm going around him supportively. 'Honey'

'Sorry' He expels. 'I'm just, I'm really-'

'Worried, I know, I can see that' She smiles sadly. 'Have you called Larry yet?'

'Peyton will kill me if I call him and there ends up being nothing wrong'

'Well as your Mother I'm telling you her father will kill you if you don't Luke. I can't quite believe he didn't come home after everything she's been through this year- what's that look? She told him right? You told me she told him.' Her eyes are narrowed as she regards him and he feels like he's six years old all over again.

'She didn't want to worry him-'

'Lucas!' Karen exclaims.

'I told her a thousand times Mum! I tried to make her. I really did. She's so stubborn and then she got that call and I dropped the subject because I thought he was locked up. I should have ignored her, I should have gone behind her back I know that now-'

'Oh honey' Karen shakes her head. 'No, no. I'm sorry. You couldn't have forced her, that was her choice, this isn't on you.' She tells him assertively. 'I'll call Larry in a second'

'I should be out there looking for her-'

'No sweetie, the officer said you should stay here in case she calls-'

'She hasn't got her phone! She's not going to call!' He snaps agitatedly.

'Lucas the police could be right, you said earlier she was upset, she could have just gone out, she could be at Anna's grave, that's not unusual behaviour-'

'Not six months ago, no! But since that psycho attacked her she hasn't gone anywhere by herself, especially after dark. She didn't leave her house voluntarily Mum, her phone was smashed, there were beads on the floor from her dress, there were scuff marks on the door, all signs of a struggle and I know there could be really simple explanations for all those things, I do and I hope to god this gut feeling I have is all wrong but she'd tried to text me for help, her prom dress is gone, why would she put that on if she wasn't intending to come to prom?'

Karen's brow creases, her son's distress bearing down on her. She nods once.

'Okay'

'Okay?' His eyes are glassy and his brow furrowed as he looks at her.

'I'm going to try and get a hold of Larry. You call everyone you know, try and gather as many people as possible that will come help us search for her'

'But you said-'

'Forget what I said Lucas, we've already lost Keith. I know things haven't been easy between us lately and I'm sorry but I'm on your side honey. I can see how scared you are and it's scaring me. You're right, if this boy really is responsible, we need to be out there doing everything we can to find her' She declares seriously.

Lucas throws his arms around her abruptly. 'We'll find her won't we Mum?' He pleads into her shoulder.

Her hand rubs soothingly up and down his back and she swallows thickly. 'Of course we will' She agrees and she can only pray to god that she's right.

LPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLP

She wakes with a start. It's like she's been held down underwater and she's just broken through the surface and is taking that first gasping breath.

Her body lurches upright with a jolt, disorientation making her dizzy.

And then it all comes back. Hits her like a ton of bricks and she wants to go back under.

She clutches at the bed sheets that have been diligently draped over her and it is only when her breathing has regulated that she becomes aware that she's most definitely not wearing what she had been when she'd last been conscious.

She pulls the covers up and looks down at herself. She'd wanted nothing more than to be out of that dress but now she wants it back on because a midnight blue, satin camisole encases her body along with matching briefs that she most certainly didn't put on.

'I thought you'd be more comfortable out of your dress and didn't want you waking up with vomit all over you' He smiles.

Her eyes dart up and she simultaneously yanks the sheets back down over her. She doesn't feel comfortable, the last thing she could ever feel is comfortable because she doesn't like the idea of him touching her while she was unconscious to the world. The thought of him undressing her and seeing her naked body leaves her stomach in knots. But then again the alternative of being awake while he did so wasn't favoured; she'd much rather be out cold, especially if he was going to want to violate her again, she didn't want to have to suffer through _that_ again, ever.

'You've been sleeping for nearly twelve hours' He informs her.

She crosses her arms over the top of the covers like armour.

'What time is it?' Her voice is thick and scratchy, a combination of her extensive crying and throwing up.

'3'o clock'

'Saturday afternoon?' Her brow creases because the lack of windows makes it impossible to make any accurate judgement on the time of day.

'Yes. I suppose I should have woken you a while ago but you must have needed the rest'

She's sure he wouldn't have been able to rouse her even if he'd tried; whatever drug he'd given her, it had knocked her out well and good.

'Can I...is there...' She licks her dry lips. 'Is there anywhere I can freshen up?'

'Of course baby. You think I'd have you washing and peeing in buckets?' He's amused at the thought. 'Only the best for my girl. I'll go run you a bath and you can pick out something to wear. You're going to love all the clothes I've bought you' He tells her proudly, gesturing to the wardrobe across from them as he stalks out of the dim room.

The muffled sound of taps being turned on and water running soon filters through the ajar door and she listens for a moment, anticipating his return. She doesn't want to get up, doesn't care if he was the one that put her in the skimpy negligee she's wearing, there's no way she's about to let him see her in it again.

Only when it's clear he's not coming straight back does she move and she aches more now than she ever has in her life. Every part of her hurts. Regardless of that, she doesn't loiter. If anything she moves with haste, ignoring every twinge of pain; she's too jittery and nervous about his return to let her afflictions get the better of her.

She walks over the carpet floor, cringing as her feet unintentionally pass over a damp patch that is clearly the result of him cleaning up after her sickness. She hurries forward and then she's opening the wardrobe.

It's not her. None of it is her.

She just wants some sweatpants, something comfy to cocoon her body in. She wants Lucas' sweatshirt with its soothing smell of him. She wants Lucas. Lucas.

She shakes him from her thoughts before she starts crying because he's not here and the reality is dress after dress.

Her fingers coast over them like they're sullied, not brand new with their label's still intact.

'Did you find something?'

She careens forward at the sound of his voice, stumbling and haphazardly yanking the current garment beneath her hand off its hanger to shield herself.

He laughs because she's all but just hidden herself amongst the hangers as though she's five years old and initiating a game of hide and seek. 'I can see you' He drawls amusedly.

'I, I'm- I tripped' She lamely announces, hesitantly emerging from the screen of clothes before he attempts to assist her. She doesn't even know what dress is grasped in her hands, that's the least of her concerns. As long as she can hold it up and conceal the most part of her body, that's all that matters.

'Oh sweetheart, you can be such a klutz' He teases and her features attempt to react appropriately, but her smile doesn't exactly embody entertainment nor embarrassment. It's unease, distress and revulsion. 'Mm, is that what you've chosen?' His stare trails down to the black dress that she's holding tightly against her as though her life depends on it. And his obvious approval makes her want to throw it back into the confines of the cupboard and slam the door shut but she won't do that because she won't stand before him in the inappropriate nightwear she's determinedly shielding.

'Do you maybe have a t-shirt and some, some sweatpants or something? This it's, it seems silly putting this on when we're not, not going anywhere right?' She flounders.

But he's not listening, he's walked to the chest of draws at her side and she automatically side steps away from him as he opens the top draw.

'Your underwear is in this one, nightwear in the second. Everything's in the right sizes' He states and she finds her feet continuing on their path away from him because him saying things like that freaks her out. She wonders how often he'd followed her, or if he'd even been in her house and rifled through her belongings. 'Here' She swallows thickly as he finishes sifting through the draw and turns to face her. She's nearly at the door now and he looks entertained as he walks over to her. 'Where are you off to?'

'I, I thought I better check the bath isn't overflowing' She thinks perhaps she should just stop with the act because nothing that's coming out of her mouth seems remotely real. She wants to run, scream, try and get out. It's going against every fibre of her being but she feels too feeble and he's so much stronger. Her sleep, even if it was drug induced, has left her with a clearer mind. She wants to bide her time, wants to assess the situation and map out her surroundings clearly. She wants a plan because she knows she can't fight him off, not with just her strength. She's already found out who rules that fight.

'Here' He's been talking but she tuned out and she can tell by the way he's wavering his hand at her that he's been attempting to get her to take whatever it is he's holding.

Her eyes jerk from his face and she's quick to decipher what he's bought her; A black satin bra with lace trims and matching panties stare up at her and in an instant she feels like the teenager she's meant to be because the clothes he wants her to wear, the underwear, all of it seems so...adult...so not her. She doesn't feel like she can carry it off. She doesn't want to carry it off. Especially not for him.

'Derek- Ian' She corrects, shaking her head. 'I don't feel good, I just want something comfy you know? I'm tired and I'm-'

'I know, that's why I'm running you a bath. I'll make dinner while you relax and you'll feel so much better after. You want to look good for me don't you baby?' He holds the underwear out to her again and everything about his look scares her. Because she doesn't know what refusing is going to result in and the last twenty four hours has been horrific enough. She's not sure she could handle anything else. And it is that very fear that has her hand outstretching to take the matching lingerie.

He smiles.

She doesn't, her stare skitters to the floor.

'I'm going to make you the most romantic meal' He announces. 'You're going to love it'

She can't find the resolve to respond, she doesn't want to warrant his insanity by playing along with this absurd pantomime.

'Can I go to the bathroom now?' She instead asks permission to leave the room.

He wavers for a moment but then he nods. 'I'll show you' He walks ahead and she follows several paces behind, her eyes absorbing things she didn't the night before. She realises how out of it she must of been because the room isn't swaying and it seems bigger than the small cell she recalls. It's completely furnished and she lingers on the small details...the vase of lilies, her favourite...framed photos of herself... Her nose crinkles in disbelief because these are snapshots of her unaware and happy and he's defiled these precious memories because _he_ was there all along, watching her every move.

He's come to a stop before an open door that she'd not noticed before and she shuffles awkwardly past him, her front facing him at all times.

'Thankyou' She mutters, hands fumbling as she juggles the dress and underwear, grasping at both items with one hand to her chest as she awkwardly reaches for the door, eager to be away from his leering stare.

Relief washes over her when she hears it click shut, securing the barrier between them. The hand at her chest instantly releases its tight grip on the garments in favour of seeking out a lock.

There's not one.

She's not exactly surprised but her minute reprieve ends just like that because he could waltz in at any given second and this isn't the safe haven she was hoping for.

She turns, her stare flitting around the small bathroom, seeking a window that she knows isn't there.

The bath is on the verge of overflowing and she turns the taps off blindly, her eyes still exploring her new surroundings. She's gone into hunter mode. She wants a weapon. She wants something that can end this.

But that instinct comes to a grinding halt as her gaze fixes on a mirror, her reflection terminating her determination because she can't focus on anything but the girl looking back at her. Because her appearance is nothing like what it was when she'd last seen herself. Her curls are no longer styled, and most of the strands of hair she'd pinned back have escaped. Remnants of her make up is smudged around her eyes. But it's not those things that have her stomach turning. It's the bust lip, it's the hickey on her neck and the finger print marks. And just like that she can feel him all over her and she's suffocating.

Her hands viciously yank the thin straps at her shoulders down and as she hurriedly strips her panic only intensifies because her eyes find new marks on her skin that weren't there yesterday afternoon.

She doesn't linger on her reflection for a moment longer, sickened by the visual. She turns her back and quickly submerges herself in the warm bath. She can't get in quick enough because her skin is crawling. She feels dirty all over and she moves haphazardly, as though she's suddenly possessed. She locates the soap and scrubs furiously but it doesn't help. None of it helps and as quickly as she started she stops. The soap slips free from her fingers and her trembling arms move around her legs, clutching them to her chest.

And then she's whimpering into her knees. 'I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry' She professes. 'I'm so sorry Luke. I'm so sorry' She says it over and over like a mantra, as though if she says it enough times he'll be able to hear. A part of her, the fleeting rational part, knows she isn't responsible but the self-condemnation has already taken hold. It's overpowering. It blames her, her for being weak, for not being able to fight harder, for not being able to prevent this man from having what was meant to be Lucas'.

'Baby are you nearly done?'

She freezes at his voice, her nails digging into her legs in fear that he'll intrude.

'Peyton?' His fist knocks against the door and she blinks furiously, trying to clear her blurry vision.

'Y-yes. Near-nearly'

'Dinner is almost ready'

'O-okay. I-I'll get o-out n-now' She meekly answers. Her voice is shaky as she tries to get her crying in check. She wonders how long she's been in here. It feels like only a couple of minutes but the tepid water together with her shrivelled toes and fingers tell otherwise.

She grips the bath edge and rises with difficulty on shaky legs. The water has helped a little in alleviating her stiff limbs but with that relief she's more aware of bruising that she'd previously been numb to.

She grabs the towel and only breathes when it's wrapped around her and she's concealed. The possibility of him trespassing is what fuels her urgency. She dries quickly, her hands rapidly learning to be more gentle in certain spots and then she's stumbling into the provided underwear.

The thought of having to leave this room makes her quiver because she doesn't know what is in store for her and she's not keen to find out.

She struggles with the dress, it's clingy and as soon as she's pulled it over her hips she wants it off because it's stifling. She shifts her feet as she shimmy's it the rest of the way up and then battles with the zip underneath her left arm.

She can hear pots and pans clattering from beyond the door and a care free hum that is making her stomach queazy and not exactly working up her appetite and she wonders how much more time she has before he insists she comes out.

Her mouth is dry and the unpleasant taste in her mouth has her venturing to the sink. She makes use of the provided toothbrush, ripping it free of its packaging and using more toothpaste than necessary to try and erase the memory of his mouth on hers. It doesn't. Her throat is sore, a combination of her insistent sobbing and the exhausting effort of throwing up and the minty flavour burns. Regardless, she's thorough.

'Peyton?'

She spits. 'I-I'm coming. One minute'

'I'm dishing up'

'Okay' She trails her hand over her mouth before reluctantly moving toward the toilet. It's the one thing she's been avoiding. Because she's scared. She moves gingerly, carefully pulling her black briefs down before lowering herself onto the seat and just that movement alone has her flinching. She closes her eyes and bites her lip hard as she relieves herself and it stings, burns, and she's concerned that she may need medical attention because there's a few specks of blood on the toilet paper that shouldn't be there.

She takes a shaky breath and swallows the lump in the back of her throat.

'It's fine. You're fine. You're fine' She softly tells herself.

But she doesn't feel fine.

'Peyton?'

She doesn't answer this time. Because being near him isn't fine and she doesn't want to go and eat dinner with him.

She flushes the toilet and lets the bath water out and the gurgling noises are welcomed because they drown him out.

'Peyton'

She slopes down the wall, awkwardly manoeuvring her legs as a result of the constrictive material that hugs her. 'You'll be home soon. You'll be home' She whispers quietly to herself as she lays down and curls onto her side .

He's knocking on the door and she's surprised he hasn't barged straight in. It doesn't take long for him to grow impatient with her sudden refusal to communicate though.

She cowers into the wall as he walks in, hiding her face from him.

'What are you doing?'

She doesn't answer.

'Baby' He crouches down and she knows her behaviour may not be the most mature but she's not found her words to be of any use so far and if she can't have a sane conversation she's reluctant to voluntarily do as he wants. She's frightened to go and sit at a table with him and eat a dinner; she doesn't want to feed his demented belief that they're destined to be together.

'Dinner is on the table' His hands gently try to turn her toward him but she's cemented herself in place. 'Don't you feel well?' He uses more force and her rigid form unwillingly topples, her back hitting the floor with a thud.

She looks up at him with bleary eyes, his question sparking the words that promptly leave her mouth. 'I need a doctor. There, there's something, there's something really wrong...I, I need a doctor'

'You're fine' He dismisses. 'I would never let anything happen to you-'

'You have to take me to a doctor then- you have to-'

'Shhh' His finger covers her mouth. 'You're hungry and dehydrated. That is all' He says with finality. He stands then, effortlessly lifting her until her feet are planted on the floor. 'I can take care of you' He vouches. 'And you're going to love how special I've made our meal, you're going to forget all about feeling unwell'

'No- I-'

'Shh' he hushes her with a smile and his fingers on her face have her freezing. 'Mm look at you. You're so sexy' He husks.

She grimaces and ducks her head to avoid his touch but his other hand catches her cheek firmly and his face tilts toward hers and she wishes she'd not stayed put, she wishes she'd gone out the door and hurriedly sat down at his romantic meal for two because she may have avoided this, him, standing too close, holding her face too tightly. 'So sexy and all mine'

'I'm not yours' She scathingly retorts, the palms of her hands pressing against his hard chest in an attempt to keep him at bay.

He smirks. 'You're trying to provoke me. You want me to take you right here against the wall don't you?' He claims and her eyes widen incredulously.

'No!' She utters suddenly.

'Your legs wrapped-'

'No, No. No- The dinner! The dinner. It, it's going to be cold' She exclaims persistently. Her heart is racing, her palms sweating as her words continue fervently because it's a necessity that she change the path his warped mind is suddenly journeying upon because she can't go to that god awful place. She's not sure she'll survive. 'You've worked so hard to make it special and it'll be ruined. I, I thought it was going to be like, like our first proper date' She babbles manically.

And she has no clue what sells him but he kisses her forehead and then he's agreeing. 'You're right baby it will be like our first date' And then he's grasping her hand. 'There'll be time for this after'

She doesn't realise she's holding her breath, not until she's out of the bathroom and sat at the candle lit table, only then does she inhale sharply because there's a substantial amount of space separating them. But his last words ring in her ears and she stares down at the knife and fork before her and she doesn't take time to think, there is no time, not in her eyes, because she's consumed, consumed by the thought that he's going to do _that_ to her again and she just can't.

With the memory of him on top of her flickering tauntingly in her mind, she rises from her seat.

And it's a blur. All of it.

Screaming. Red. Agony.


	4. Chapter 4

She thinks it might be the end.

She hopes so. The thought of seeing her mother and Ellie again makes her feel safe.

She wants it to be the end.

It had all happened so quickly.

In retrospect she's not sure what she was thinking she'd be able to achieve with a cutlery knife and fork.

Not that she hadn't managed to hurt him, she'd successfully done that all right.

She's sure she looked like a complete lunatic as she'd stabbed her implements at him.

She'd taken him off guard and he'd faltered and his momentary weakness had given her confidence because he'd stumbled backward and dropped to the floor, a grunt of pain escaping him as her fork pierced his side and something dark had awakened inside of her in that moment because she'd wanted to see the light fade from his eyes. She'd wanted to slay him.

She'd raised the blunt knife and thrust it down against his chest but asides from scarcely breaking the skin it didn't have the lethal effect she'd so desperately desired. Her arm had then retreated quickly, intent on repeating the action but with more pressure this time.

Her attack had startled him. His momentary inattentiveness had given her a window of opportunity, he'd been too trusting and not perceived her to be so courageous.

But she'd far from debilitated him. The spasm of pain she'd caused was a catalyst to his temper unleashing. And as she'd swung her weapon down he caught her wrist, preventing her assault.

Despite his war wound he'd pushed her hard and her petite frame had quickly tumbled back, a shriek emitting from the back of her throat.

He'd ripped the imbedded fork from his side and it had clattered to the floor as he rose to his feet.

She'd not thought it would ever be possible for her to be more scared than she had been already but as he'd stalked toward her, her panic surpassed any of her previous fears.

She'd shuffled back, holding the knife out defensively before her as she'd sought shelter beneath the table.

'You think you can beat me?!' He'd barked. 'A girl?!'

She'd not been fast enough.

One swift kick is all it had took; her knife had clanged to the floor, sailing away from her and her body had automatically coiled up as the wind was knocked from her.

And that had just been the beginning.

Somewhere amid his onslaught the contents of the dinner he'd prepared had plummeted to the floor around her.

And that's where she was still sprawled now.

She can taste blood and her vision keeps dipping in and out of focus.

He's stopped but she can't tell because everything hurts.

He crouches down and tugs her hair until her face is tilted upward to look at him.

She blinks. The left side of her face has sustained quite the battering and it feels stiff, as though her skin has been shrunk and no longer fits.

Her eyes roll as she tries to fix her stare on his hazy form.

His hair is damp and the sheen of sweat coating his reddened face makes it appear like he's glowing.

'You ruined our special date baby' He pants out.

Her ears are ringing and his words are muffled.

He lets go of her tangled locks and she's incapable of holding her own head up and it drops back against the carpet, the blow making that ringing noise intensify.

Her eyelids are half closed now but she can make him out, still squatted before her. He's hoisting his shirt up and inspecting his wound.

A trail of blood runs down his side beneath four precise dots that actually look significantly deep.

He growls as he runs his fingertip over the injury.

'Fucking christ. Look what you did! That was really, really disappointing Peyton'

She's not listening. Can't. She can feel his footsteps thumping against the floor as he retreats, his blurred figure seemingly evaporating.

And she knows it is over, thanks god it is over. And it's only then, that she lets her eyes close completely and her battered body succumbs to exhaustion.

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Karen watches the rain pattering angrily against the window. It's as though the heavens have opened up and are grieving along with them. She knows it won't stop him though; Lucas Scott has barely sat down and she's worried for his health but she won't tell him no. She can't because he needs to feel as though progress is being made and if scouring the streets and their surroundings offers him any consolation she won't be the one to stop him. Hell, she'd be out there with him if it wasn't for the arrival of the man behind her.

His reflection appears methodically in the glass every few seconds as he paces back and forth and her heart aches because he's not sat down since he turned up an hour ago.

'Larry let me get you something to drink' She says gently as she turns to face him.

'No, I'm, I'm fine-'

'You've been travelling for forty eight hours, not slept in three days, if you don't eat and drink how are you going to keep your energy levels up? How will you help Peyton then?' She softly tells him.

He gives one curt nod and she ushers him to the table, sitting him down.

'How has this happened? How did this...'

'I should have called you myself when the first incident happened but I was under the impression Peyton had herself-'

'Why wouldn't she tell me that?!' He exclaims and he's suddenly livid. 'Why would she keep that from me? I'm her father!'

'She didn't want to worry you I assume' Karen sighs.

'Why did the police do nothing? Why wasn't she protected? Why didn't they act straight away? Why didn't they do anything when Brooke and Lucas reported her gone?! Things could be different-'

'Larry you can't keep going over the what ifs. It's all I've been telling Lucas-'

'Why did Lucas leave her there? Why the hell didn't he go in there if she wasn't answering the door-'

'Lucas isn't to blame for this Larry. I know you're upset but god don't you blame him for this. The inspectors have already scoured his room and gone through all his things, confiscated his laptop like he's a suspect. And you and I both know he could never hurt a hair on that girls head. Ever. He's doing everything in his power to try and find her, he's been there for her when you haven't so don't you dare put this on his shoulders. He's just a kid-'

'I'm sorry' Larry splutters abruptly. 'I know, I know, I"m sorry. I didn't mean that. I just want to go to my own house. I want to sit in her room, I want to be somewhere where I can feel close to her. I want someone to give some god damn answers'

'It shouldn't be too much longer now. They've already been in there for a day looking for evidence'

Larry nods sullenly. 'It's nearly been four days in total now since that night. They always say the first forty eight hours in someone's disappearance is crucial-'

'You can't listen to those stupid-'

'They're statistics. They're facts. What if it's too late? I can't...I couldn't...Oh god my...my baby...why wasn't I here?...my baby' His breaking voice and choked sob has Karen's eyes filing with her own tears because this man has already lost so much and it's too cruel. She tentatively reaches out, her hand supportively rubbing his back.

'We can't alter the choices we've all made Larry' She softly declares. 'It has happened and there's no changing that. We have to try and handle this by doing whatever is in our power to find out what exactly transpired that night' She pauses and swallows the lump at the back of her throat. 'We can't loose faith, we have to keep looking and hoping and praying because that's what Peyton needs. She needs us to be strong, she needs us to fight for her'.

He doesn't answer. Can't. His arms suddenly lurch out though, unexpectedly closing around Karen's waist and he clings to her tightly.

Her eyes widen and she stiffens for a second but this isn't him being inappropriate, this isn't that. This isn't a man making advances towards her, nothing of the sort. It's a parent seeking reassurance from another parent and it's that very knowledge that has her hands moving around him. Because she is a parent and she can't begin to imagine what he is going through because she feels like Lucas is irrevocably a part of herself and if she were to loose him, she'd essentially be loosing a part of herself, not to mention her reasoning for existence.

And suddenly she can't hold back her tears anymore and she joins him in silently pleading to the heavens above to have mercy and return Peyton Sawyer home.

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'You're awake'

She wheezes as she twists her head towards his voice.

'I can't, I can't see' Panic swells as she strives to open her left eye to no avail.

'Sh, sh baby you're alright, it's alright it's just a little bit swollen'

She winces as he carefully presses a cold ice pack against her face.

'N-no that hurts'

'It'll make it better' He coos and she shakes her head as best she can because she's sure nothing can make this better. 'It already looks so much better from a couple of days ago'

She can't remember yesterday or the day before.

She's grateful for that because she feels horrendous now and dreads to think how it could have been worse.

She exerts her working eye to look at him hovering attentively over her.

'Here' He rests the cold icepack against the pillow and she instantly wants it back despite her initial aversion but he's supporting her head now and water is suddenly passing her dry lips as he holds a glass to her mouth.

She guzzles and then she's spluttering and he wipes her chin before trying again. He has it tipped at a better angle this time and she takes small sips.

'The nurse gave me some painkillers for my injury but you can have some' He relays and she eagerly accepts the tablets that are popped into her mouth one at a time in between mouthfuls of water because pain relief is more than welcome round about now.

Somewhere in her foggy mind she registers that he must have left her, that he's sought medical attention and she wonders if maybe her attempt to inflict serious harm upon him was in fact not for nothing, that maybe this, him visiting a public facility could lead to the end, could have lead to a sighting and her craved rescue.

'I'm sorry we fought sweetheart' He carefully lets her head rest back against the pillow and his fingertips trail soothingly over her forehead. 'I know you're confused but I realise I gave you too much freedom too quickly now. I hope you see how everything I do is for you, I didn't enjoy hurting you baby but I had to. Your actions have ramifications and hopefully next time I do something special for you, you'll be grateful and behave appropriately'

His words are muffled to her but she deciphers enough to realise it's just more of his nonsensical jargon because nothing he says holds any truth.

She shifts, seeking out the coldness of the abandoned icepack to numb the throbbing in her face.

A strangled noise escapes her lips as she curls onto her side and in spite of finding the soothing iciness she'd yearned for she's instantly aware of the rest of her aching body as a succession of shooting pains descend through her chest right down to her abdomen.

'Please' Her plea is a gravelly rasp. 'I-I need...help me...please...' Her words are disjointed and her hand grasps at his arm as fear snares her.

'You're alright baby. I'm right here. I'm going to take care of you'

Delirium takes hold. He morphs. He's no longer the enemy. It's Lucas. It's Lucas. She's saved. He's right here.

'I've got you'

Her brow furrows and then her head is slowly bobbing 'Yes...you're here...' She repeats lethargically. 'I'm so sorry...'

'I know baby'

'You've got me...I'm safe now...'

'You're safe. Try to sleep now'

'Yes...I can sleep now...' Her blurry vision lingers on the cruel hallucination for a moment longer before she gives in, her last drowsy mutterings barely audible. 'You're always saving me'.

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Larry looks up at the ruckus taking place on the other side of the windowed office and isn't the least bit surprised to see Lucas Scott being restrained by two cops, his mother desperately trying to calm him down.

'Let him in' Larry sighs. 'He's just as entitled to know everything you have to say as I am'

'Are you sure sir? I can have him removed from the vicinity?'

'That won't be necessary, he knows Peyton better than anyone, including myself. It's important he's kept informed' Larry softly admits.

'Okay' The inspector exits the room and returns a moment later with the distressed teenager in toe.

'Thanks Mr Sawyer-'

'How many times Luke, Larry is just fine' He pats Lucas' back and gives him a weary nod before regarding the officer once more. 'You said you had some news?' He anxiously inquires. He wants to trust this man before them but he's finding it hard to do so because his daughter is missing, has been for nearly five days now and this man is in charge of finding her. It doesn't matter how many assurances Mr Inspector Anderson had given him just yesterday afternoon; He'd said they were doing everything in their power, that there were substantial developments but none of it had reassured him, he wouldn't be reassured, not until his little girl was back in his arms.

'Yes. I don't know if you're that acquainted with your neighbours but a Mr & Mrs McDowell came into see us earlier this morning'

Larry's brow crinkles pensively.

'The elderly couple from across the road?' Lucas knowledgeably speaks up. 'They moved in just a few of months ago' He relays to Larry. 'So you wouldn't have met them yet'

Larry nods, his jaw tight as he's reminded yet again of his absence from his daughter's life.

'Right' The inspector agrees. 'Well it turns out they had a surveillance camera with sensors fixed on their gate recently because they have a dog that kept escaping and making its way back to their previous property and they couldn't work out how he was getting out. Anyway, they heard about Peyton and didn't come forward sooner as they'd patched up the dog's escape route and hadn't realised the camera was still set to automatically begin recording when it senses movement after dark. It was their grandson that suggested he check the tape and helped them in bringing the footage in. It's not clear given that it's from across the street but-'

'Let me see' Larry cuts him off, the reasoning for the television screen before them now very much apparent.

'I'd like to warn you-'

'Just play it' Larry insists shortly.

The inspector shifts his weight but relents and turns on the tv before using a remote.

A dull, fuzzy picture of the McDowell's pristine front lawn fills the screen. It's dusk and the camera follows a cat stalk across the flowerbeds. The image then changes. It's darker now, the dim light from the street lights casting shadows.

'This is at 7.40pm when you arrived to pick up Peyton, Lucas' Anderson explains.

Sure enough the camera's angle moves as far right as it can, capturing him walking along the sidewalk toward her house before he disappears out of the frame.

'We've come to the conclusion that he must have entered the property from the opposite direction as he doesn't appear until much later' The inspector fast forwards the film stopping it just before 9pm. 'See here, you can see the rear of a vehicle just pulling into shot, we have reports of a similar description being parked further up the street on the night of her disappearance.' The boot of the car can be seen to pop open and it isn't until several minutes later that any motion is further detected.

Lucas' breath catches in his throat because the dark figure that appears just within frame is carrying her and her arms are swaying limply and her white dress bellows beneath her and she's clearly unconscious.

Her abductor is seen to be looking around nervously as he haphazardly manoeuvres her into the boot of the car and it's a split second, just a fraction of time but the angle of his face and the street light captures his features.

'It's him. It is. It's him. It is. I told you. It is. It's him' Lucas babbles.

'Alright son, alright' Anderson soothingly replies, pausing the film.

'Is she alive?' Larry's hoarse question startles Lucas into silence, his disbelieving eyes rounding on the distraught father. 'Do you think she's alive in that piece of footage?' He barks more aggressively this time.

'Of course she is!' Lucas exclaims angrily.

'It's alright son' The inspector hushes delicately. 'I cannot answer that question Mr Sawyer. However, having said that, gathering from Peyton's previous statements and everything we've established about this man's behaviour, he was infatuated with her and his motive for pursuing her has always been about the belief that they were in fact destined to be together. It doesn't fit with his profile that his intention was to take her life. I can give you no guarantees but my professional opinion is that for him to be able to get her out and away from her house, quietly and undetected, he'd have needed for her to be sedated.'

Larry pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes tight.

'And due to this bit of footage we are now officially treating this case as an abduction. I know this must be devastating to see but it's a significant piece of evidence Mr Sawyer, at this point we couldn't have hoped for a better lead'

'You'll be able to find her from this?'

'We have something to work from. We are working on getting a number plate and instead of an artist's sketch we now have a physical image to put out there that will help jog the publics memory if they've been in contact with or know this man'

'Right. Right. That's good'

'Yes. And my colleagues are confident that the specialists working on her computer will be able to start identifying who has been accessing her website and everyone she's had contact with online, which again will be substantial in this investigation. After Mr Scott heres laptop was searched we were able to identify that she has had numerous conversations with someone impersonating yourself son-'

Lucas' eyes grow impossibly wider and then his head is bobbing up and down vigorously. 'Yes...that, that makes sense, I-she- I just remembered, she rang me once, A good while ago now.' He rambles disjointedly 'We weren't together at the time and anyway she rang me and was quizzing me on whether I'd just IM'd her.' He squints his eyes thoughtfully. 'I'd not. I remember thinking it was weird but I forgot about it till just now. You can find out the IP address can't you? Then you'll be able to track down where he was messaging her from?' His voice becomes louder as his optimism rises.

'We have the best people working on this' The inspector answers him with a pat to the back and Lucas wants to hit him because he feels as though he's being treated as some little kid and he doesn't feel like a kid, hell he doesn't feel the slightest bit like the teenager he is anymore either. He feels like he's aged ten years in the past few days and he wants to be taken seriously, he wants his opinions to count, and his voice to be heard. Because nothing that has just been revealed to them is a huge revelation, in fact it's just clarified everything Lucas was already certain of; She's been taken, she's been taken by her psychopathic stalker and with each passing moment both anxious men are becoming exceedingly troubled over her welfare. But one thing Lucas is certain of, is he will not give up on her. He won't stop. Not until she's found. He won't stop, even if it means taking the law into his own hand.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N** Thanks for the interest and encouraging words guys. Here's the next chapter...predictably dark and angst ridden!

She sits in the corner of the bathroom.

He's not here. But she feels safer hiding just the same.

She's lost track of time. Daylight is hidden from her and the days have quickly merged together. The hours since he beat her have consisted of sleeping and awaking to him feeding her painkillers and nursing her back to good health, that's what he keeps claiming anyway.

She knows it's been five days since she arose from bed and began to stay conscious for a more typical amount of time, but she has no idea how long she'd been bed ridden for.

She pulls her shirt up and inspects the bruising across her stomach. It's still tender to touch but similarly to her face, the edges of the purple marks are beginning to yellow now.

She's thankful she can see again. There was a time that she'd feared the swelling wouldn't go down but despite her cheek hurting when she blinks and speaks, it's significantly better. And that suddenly worries her. She wants to go back to being immobile because he'd not tried anything with her since and she's not naive. She sees the looks he keeps giving her, despite her tarnished face and she knows she can't fend him off if he decides he wants her again. She failed before, that's how she sees it anyway; she failed to protect herself and in doing so was disloyal to Lucas. And she thinks if she's saved now, if she's rescued from this hell she'll be able to salvage their relationship; Lucas needn't ever know of her betrayal, she'll keep it a secret and everything will go back to how it was and they'll be happy and he'll still love her, he'll still want her. But she fears if Ian keeps wanting _that_ from her her guilt will soon become too much to bear and Lucas will see, he'll know, he'll take one good look at her and know what she's done...

She blinks and shakes her head abruptly as though she's just come too from a stupor. Because of course he'll want her. None of this is her fault. None of it. She's done nothing wrong. He won't hate her. She didn't ask for this. She said no. She's done nothing wrong.

She grits her teeth together in anger because _he_ has her thinking like this. _He _has her hating herself and condemning herself when logically she knows she shouldn't be.

And she hates him. She hates him and she wants vengeance, she wants to fight him, fight him like her brother had taught her. But she's not strong enough. All the training in the world could never have given her the superior strength that she requires to conquer him. And especially now, now that she knows what he's capable of; she's sure if she puts up a fight and angers him her body won't handle the next battering that he'll surely give out.

But she's determined just the same. She'll catch him unaware. She'll hit him with a lamp. She'll claw at his face. Gouge out his eyes. She'll bite down hard on his flesh until her teeth pierce his skin. She'll say no and when he doesn't listen she'll be the warrior that Derek, the real Derek, her brother Derek, taught her to be.

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'If you were going to take someone...theoretically, would you hide them as far away as possible or would you stay local?' Lucas wonders aloud, hunched over his desk and looking at a map.

'Hm..' Nathan ponders for a moment. 'I'd never really considered that factor in any of my kidnapping plots before' He drawls sarcastically.

'Nate' Brooke berates with a scowl, keenly scouring the map along with Lucas.

'Oh come on, you two are being ridiculous. You can't expect to stare at a map and decide where he's taken her-'

'Do you have a better idea?' Lucas snaps. 'Because I'm all ears, I'm open to any suggestions'

'The police-'

'Do not tell me the police are handling this Nate. It has been nearly a month. A month. No progress is being made- I'm being kept completely in the dark like I'm some stupid kid, I can't just sit around and wait'

'We're not going to' Brooke asserts. 'We should start with every gas station and pit stop along the main roads' She trails a highlighter pen along two distinct routes. 'Someone has to have seen something. Surely. If you don't want to help Nate, that's fine. Me and Luke aren't stupid but-'

'I never said that' Nathan cuts her off, his hand trailing through his hair exasperatedly. 'I just don't want you both loosing sight of how unlikely...' He trails off at Lucas' deathly glower. 'But I completely get it. Okay? I love Peyton too and I'll help, I want to help in any way I can. But Hales is under enough stress right now. I don't want her and the baby-'

'I know' Lucas exhales heavily. 'She's your priority right now. She should be-'

'Lucas what the hell is this?' Haley shrieks. His bedroom door clashes into the wall behind as she waltzes in holding a gun as far away from herself as possible.

'Jesus!' Nathan lurches towards her. 'Put that down-'

'Christ Hales, why are you snooping through my stuff?!' Lucas barks.

'Thank god I'm snooping through your stuff. You're acting like a crazy person!' She lets Nathan confiscate the weapon from her as she wavers her hand in Lucas' face.

'Am I? Is it completely insane for me to want to be able to protect the people I care about? You want Peyton back right? Well _that_ is going to help me get her back. Give it here Nate'

Haley blocks his path. 'No! Lucas I'm not letting you do this-'

'You don't have a choice'

'Lucas!' She stamps her feet. 'You can't, you can't just go around with a firearm- haven't you learnt anything from Keith and Jimmy?-'

'Yes! I learnt how fucking important it is to protect those you love- I've learnt that you can't just assume the police enforcement will protect you. You can't trust people! You have to take matters into your own hands'

'No. No you don't. Laws are in place for a reason. You know that- Brooke tell him' She looks towards the strangely quiet brunette with desperation.

Brooke licks lips before slowly standing up.

'Actually Hales...I, I'm kinda with Luke on this-'

'What? You're kidding right-'

'I love you Haley and I love your morals but I, I'm not like you. I want Peyton back. I want her safe and from everything we know...about psycho derek, well, realistically that means when we find where she is...Luke having that, that offers him some protection.'

'Look maybe you two should go' Lucas decides. 'I know you want to help but Nathan's right, you're going to have a baby anytime now. You shouldn't be stressed. Peyton wouldn't want you doing anything to harm yourself or the baby. I don't want that. You should just concentrate on that right now and Brooke and I, we'll handle this-'

'But-' Haley tries to protest.

'They're right Haley' Nathan resolves. 'I mean, we can do things from here, we can do the posters, we can make calls and stuff but I'm not having you be around this' He holds the gun out to Lucas who hastily accepts it in fear that Haley will argue. 'Come on, lets go' Nathan pats Lucas on the back and ushers his reluctant wife out of the house.

'Why didn't you tell me about that?' Brooke quizzes as she watches Lucas hastily hide the gun behind some books on his bookshelf.

'Because I thought you'd have a similar reaction to Hales' He shrugs. 'Besides I don't want to get you into any trouble-'

'Luke we're in this together. You can't do it completely by yourself' She softly declares. 'And well, Hales is right on some level, things could easily turn into a bloodbath and I'm not going to exactly be much help when it comes to a fist fight and I feel, I dunno, like we need more than just us'

'You can count me in'

Both Lucas and Brooke jump, their stare jerking to the tall, stern soldier.

'Derek...'

LPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLP

He's presented food to her all cut up with nothing but a spoon for cutlery since the _incident_ and she feels like a little child as she moves the small pieces around her plate.

'You need to eat'

She doesn't respond, persistently shifting the food in circles.

'Peyton'

She wonders when he'll get the memo that she doesn't want to talk... 'Peyton, baby come on. You've hardly eaten anything in the last few days' Apparently he's not going to get the message anytime soon.

'I've taken the time to make us dinner, the least you can do is try it.' He gets up and moves to her end of the table, pulling a chair close to her and confiscating the spoonful of chicken that she's taken to scowling at.

'Come on'

She shies away from the advancing spoon as he strives to get some food past her sealed lips.

'Peyton don't be stubborn'

He wrangles with her for a moment, his free hand grabbing at her face and she stands abruptly, swatting him away and ignoring the jabs of pain her sharp movement causes her bruised body.

_Be strong. Don't let him touch you. Fight. _

'You can force me to stay here! You can make me wear these fucking clothes and sleep in your bed. You can hit and kick me but you can't force me to eat!' She snarls. She swipes her hand out, deliberately knocking her glass of water off the table and it smashes loudly on the hard floor.

Her tough facade falters; she jumps at the noise and takes a shuddering breath because her outburst has tired her out and her stomach is suddenly in knots because this kind of behaviour surely warrants his aggression.

But he seemingly doesn't react but his calmness doesn't put her at ease, anything but.

She backs up as he rises to his feet but he doesn't approach her as she fears; he goes about clearing up the broken glass.

'I saw your father today' He casually announces.

She's breathing heavily and it staccatos at the mention of her Dad. A thousand thoughts are instantly rendered and they haphazardly flit around her head. _Her father is back from sea. He knows she's gone. Of course he does. Are they still in Tree Hill? Are they close by? Does he mean on tv? Or in the flesh?_ 'What?'

'Funny isn't it?' He glances up at her, an amused smile touching his lips that makes her feel sick. 'How he decides to play daddy dearest when you're no longer there'

Her face contorts. 'He might not be around much but he loves me! His job is the only one he's ever known. Everything he earns is for me. Where is he? Where did you see him? Are we still in Tree Hill?-'

'Oh sweetheart you've been deceived, don't you see? You and I, we're the same, we were both let down by the people that were meant to look after us most. You can't justify him being away because he loves you. You know deep down that isn't true. He wanted to get away from you because you remind him of your mother too much and he can't bear it.'

She shakes her head back and forth vigorously. 'That's not true'

'No? Take Brooke as well, suddenly you're gone and she's mourning as though she cares about you-'

'Stop' She closes her eyes tight because he's talking about the people she loves and she can't stand the thought of how distressed they are, especially her father...especially Lucas.

'I'd never do that. I'd never leave you baby. Never. It doesn't matter how big a fight we have I will always forgive you because that's what love is'

'You don't know the first thing about love' She snarls. 'It's not this. This is the opposite of love and you sure as hell can't make me love you.' She bleats venomously. _Be strong. Don't let him touch you. Fight. _

'Maybe it would be easier for you to accept the truth if they were removed from the equation completely'

Confusion has her eyes opening wide. 'What?'

'I thought preventing you from being in contact with them would be enlightening enough but I'm beginning to think more severe action is required'

Her mouth is dry and her brow creases in alarm. 'What are you talking about?'

'I mean maybe it would be easier for you to see what's right in front of you if the people responsible for your suffering are eliminated-'

'No one asides from you is responsible for my suffering!' She exclaims. 'You're fucking deranged. You're the one that has hurt me!' _Be strong. Don't let him touch you. Fight. _

'See they're in your head. You have misconstrued ideas about who the people that were in your life really are. But I know darling and I will help you see the truth. They're not good. They're not good people. They're not good for you. And if need be I will kill them, for you I'll do anything'

She's sure her heart stops beating for a moment. Dizziness has her feet shuffling and her eyes flutter as she stares at him, tries desperately to ensure she just heard incorrectly. She had to because he didn't say that, couldn't...surely not. Because he couldn't be that sick. Surely he couldn't be so cruel.

'Maybe then you'd see' He's picked up all the pieces of glass now and sets the jagged pieces on the table before standing to his full height. 'Maybe then you'd be able to concentrate on this' His hand wavers between them. 'On us. On the present. Because I'm your present and your future and that's what matters most'

She's leaning against the wall, the hard surface propping her up as she listens to his nauseating drivel. 'Don't hurt them. God, please, please don't hurt them- Don't-'

'I don't want to sweetheart. I think it's far more of a punishment them having to deal with the repercussions of their behaviour, having to dwell on all the ways they wronged you, how their actions led to you finding me and your inevitible escape from the tangled, deceitful web they'd trapped you in. Yes, I think it far more satisfying watching them flounder in your absence. But it's not about them, it's about you and if what you need is for me to make them disappear indefinitely-'

'No!' She blurts. 'I don't want that, I don't need that. I don't. I don't' Her eyes are glazed over with tears and she's done trying to be strong. She won't fight. Not if the alternative means him going on a killing spree. 'I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I don't need that, I don't'

'No?'

'No'

'But darling your behaviour shows everything to the contrary. You're acting out- your refusal to accept the truth'

'I accept the truth' She nods. 'I do' Her voice wavers because she can hear how pathetically desperate she sounds and she wants to yell, wants to scream but she knows she can't reason with his insanity. 'It, it's just, it's, it's a lot of change...in a, a short space of time...it...I...I'm confused...I've been confused...but...but I trust you' She babbles, struggling to make sense of what it is she's trying to say. Because it's nonsensical, because the only thing she's confused about is this man's logic because she's sure he's certain of the ridiculous words that keep coming from his mouth and the only possible thing worse than being stuck, trapped here, with him is him hurting her loved ones, him killing them. And she won't let that happen. Never.

'I know it's not been easy but you have to try harder baby, when you let go and trust me completely you'll be able to learn that everything I do is for us'

She nods her head obediently and stays perfectly still as he steps closer to her. She won't try to evade his touch. Not now. She digs her fingernails into the palms of her hands and never, never in a million years would of she thought she'd be stood here, like this, compliant and submissive when just hours ago she'd been hunched in the bathroom concocting how she could gouge his eyes out. But she won't attempt any of her foolish plans, not now.

She doesn't move as his fingers find her goose-pimple covered arms and run up and down them.

Her muscles ache as they tense beneath his touch but she courageously stays put.

He smiles pleasedly and her unease crescendos as his fingers ghost across her cheek, her breathing shuddery.

'I can make you so happy baby. You just have to let me'

Her eyelashes flutter as her stare flees his intense gaze.

His nose touches hers and she jumps, her eyes snapping shut. She hastily sandwiches her hands between her back and the wall because they want to claw at him but she won't let them. Because the people she loves, her whole world, he's threatened them all and she won't put their lives on the line.

'Are you going to let me make you happy baby?' His words whisper across her lips, his mouth tracing hers and its gentle. Everything about this simulates sweetness and she finds herself keen to have his harsh touches and forceful hands because yielding to his demands is making her feel outrageously dishonourable and contaminated.

His thumb presses on her chin, coaxing her lips to part.

His hot breath mingles with her own and the intimacy of it all has her head instinctively trying to shirk away from his line of fire. His hands hold her steady though. 'Hey, hey' He coos. 'You're going to let me make you happy aren't you sweetheart' His voice is soft but does little to disguise the finality in his declaration. Her eyes clench together as his tongue greedily probes at her lips before intruding and exploring her mouth.

She sees her father in a pool of blood. She sees the light leaving Lucas' eyes. The final breath escaping Brooke's mouth. Haley and Nathan lying motionless.

She presses her tongue against his. She's fuelled by determination, determination to eradicate the cruel visions that keep taunting her. She kisses him, her tongue encircles his and she tilts her head obligingly all with the hope that her efforts will thwart any of her prior misdemeanours from provoking him into making her unsettling imaginings from becoming a distressing truth.

He grunts approvingly and panic flares deep in her chest because he's seeking out more. His hand is quickly beneath her skirt and she suddenly can't focus on anything but that. His fingers slide down, hooking beneath her knee and roughly hitching her leg up to sit around his waist and she can't help it, her hands lurch free and a yelp sounds from the back of her throat as she abruptly scrambles to get away.

She swallows thickly, blinking away the tears of pain that have formed; a product of his jerky manhandling.

'I-I'm sorry...it, it just...I hurt a little still...' She blurts hastily, her hand hovering over her bruised stomach.

She anticipates his anger but his narrowed eyes soften.

'Oh baby' His hold slackens and her foot eagerly finds purchase on the floor once more. He pulls her shirt free from the waistband of her skirt to reveal the array of muddy colouring that paints her skin. His fingertips outline the markings. 'I'm sorry I had to do this sweetheart. I didn't enjoy it, believe me'

She's not quite sure how that makes any sense but she keeps quiet.

'It looks a lot better now though huh?'

She nods submissively.

'Come' He takes her hand and she wonders how he can keep a hold of it because her palms are sweating profusely.

He leads her to the sofa and turns to face her, grasping her other hand as he sinks onto the seat.

She knows he wants her to follow but her feet cement to the floor as her nerves get the better of her.

'Come down here' He tugs on her hands and she pushes her tongue to the roof of her mouth as she awkwardly shuffles forward before reluctantly lowering herself onto him, diligently settling as far back on his knees as possible.

'Better?'

She doesn't classify it as that. Her anxiety has heightened tenfold because her body is at war; it wants to fight, it wants to make a bid for escape and she wants that too, but his threat has her battling her inner turmoil and commanding her body to be unresisting.

Her head bobs in feeble answering.

And as his fingers find her hips and jolt her forward so she's flush against him, she finds herself wishing he'd just physically force her as before. She wants his suffocating weight and his bruising hold pinning her down. She doesn't want this. She doesn't want this mind game, it feels worse somehow. She feels less like the victim and more like she's committing adultery and with that comes her inability to block Lucas from her thoughts. He's there, watching, he's there, his eyes saddened and disgusted and a tear escapes and races down her cheek because she can't bear him hating her. She's loved him ever since she set eyes on him, she knows that now. He'd always known it but she'd been young and confused and they'd spent a long time struggling to get on the same page but they finally were. They'd found each other and it was different to anything she'd ever experienced before. It was real and despite their young age their was this silent understanding that it was more than just a teenage romance. That it was undoubtably serious. But now, as she lets the man beneath her grope her slight form, she's sure he'll never want her, not after this. How could he ever want her after this?

'Ian-'

'I like hearing you say my name'

Her mouth opens and closes because she doesn't know how to make this stop. 'I- I'm sorry I-'

'You don't have to be ashamed sweetheart'

Her brow furrows in confusion.

'I know you feel bad about our fight and I know you want to make it up to me and you shouldn't be ashamed for wanting to touch me'

She grimaces and shakes her head but he's speaking again before she can refute his claim.

'I know you feel guilty for being disloyal baby but I forgive you'

Her face screws up; she's astonished by his utterly fictitious deductions.

She blinks repeatedly. 'I-I-I-' She stutters as she struggles to find the right words to veer his line of thought but her stammering soon ceases when he coarsely places her hand between them to the bulge in his pants.

She startles and her stomach turns and she wants to launch herself backward onto the floor but his intimidating threat upon the people she loves has her afraid of how much she can deny him before he'll act on his words.

'He made you touch him didn't he?'

Her stare jolts up to his face in dismay because she knows who he is. He is Lucas and Lucas has never made her do a thing she hasn't wanted to.

'I watched you'

His hand tightens around hers, anticipating its bid for freedom.

She can't stop the little sound of disgust that emits from the back of her throat. The thought of him watching her makes her skin crawl but knowing he's seen her at times when she'd been certain she was alone with Lucas, times that were meant to be no ones but their own, that leaves her completely aghast.

'You use to pretend it was me didn't you?'

She clenches her eyes shut.

'You touched him like this and wished it was me. You don't have to pretend anymore'

He grinds her uncooperative fingers harder against his jeans.

'Ian' His name is a meek plea, a croaked whisper that barely carries because she can feel him becoming harder and straining against the constrictive fabric that conceals him and it's making her panic.

'Mm' He grunts and her loathing becomes intolerable as his tongue lewdly finds her neck.

She recoils. 'Stop' She can't help it. She's reached the limit and she's suddenly frantic as she yanks her hand back as though she's just been burnt. He snatches her wrist before she gets far, putting an end to its retreat.

'Peyton'

Her wide glassy eyes find his and his steely expression is reminder enough. The necessity for her obedience hits her as she recalls what is at stake and her struggling diminishes immediately.

'It's okay, you don't have to pretend anymore' He repeats softly as he directs her hand to his belt buckle. 'Do you baby?'

'N-no' She hesitates, intently avoiding his smarmy gaze.

He lets go of her wrist and she's a free agent but she doesn't feel it. She may be free of his snare but there's an invisible force keeping her fingers where he wants them.

Her eyes shut again. She can't look at him and she won't watch her digits work free his belt.

Her fingers move with indecision, one moment working with diligence and the next wavering uncertainly.

'Don't be shy baby' His voice husks. His pants are gaping open now but she's refraining from progressing with her task.

Her bloodshot eyes grudgingly open and she's suddenly spewing out words at a haphazard rate. 'Promise you won't hurt them?' She scrapes her hand through her hair. 'None of them. No one. Promise. Please promise. Swear it. Swear you won't'

'If you're a good girl I won't have to. It's all down to you baby' He smiles that sickening sweet smile that makes her want to slap him. But she won't because that's not being a good girl. Being a good girl is doing what he wants regardless of what she wants.

'You promise?'

'If you're good yes, I promise' He vows.

She swallows thickly and lingers for a moment, bracing herself for the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach to worsen as it surely will.

It does.

Because she kisses him and her hand goes where he's been directing it since he had her straddle him. And she tries. She does. She tries so hard to pretend that she's somewhere else. That none of this is real. But it's near impossible. Because he keeps grunting words about how pretty she is, about how she's all his and his voice thrums through her and she can't block it out. And there are moments when her bravery ebbs and he forcefully guides her fingers as her effort shrinks and her grief assumes control of her body. And by the time his release eventually comes she's trembling from head to toe and her silent tears become not so silent because the product of his pleasure coats her fingers and she wants it gone but she daren't move.

'Shh, it's alright baby. I know how overwhelmed you are'

She pushes her tongue to the roof of her mouth as she tries to get a hold of her sobbing.

'You don't have to worry though, I know it seems like a happy dream but it's real. And I'll make sure you're never taken away from me again. It's just going to be me and you forever. I will always look after you. I love you'

She sniffles loudly and her self loathing pinnacles with his final demand. 'Say it. Tell me you love me'

Her face twists and it takes her several attempts before she finally gets the vile, false words out and as she says them she knows the last thing she is, is the warrior. 'I- I- L-L-L-Love y-you' She's the captive and there's no freedom in this infinitely sinful abyss. Nothing but darkness. Because she's the puppet and he's her puppet master.


	6. Chapter 6

'Leave him alone. We're not interested in talking to any of you alright?' Larry hollers as he marches out of his house.

'Larry it's ok he's not-'

'No Lucas it's not ok. This is our life it's not just some story to be sold!' Larry expels angrily.

'He's not a reporter! Lucas quickly informs the upset father. 'I know him!'

Larry's furrowed brow softens. 'Oh...oh I'm sorry...'

'It's alright sir'

'We keep getting those bloody reporters coming around and it's clearly making me mistrust everyone that steps foot on my property. I'm sorry son'

'Completely understandable' Derek dismisses.

'Can we come inside Larry?'

'Of course you can Luke, you know you're welcome here anytime' Larry wavers his hand in following as he eagerly makes his way back to the safety of the house away from the peering eyes that have come to watch over the Sawyer residence. 'If you've come to interrogate me for more information I haven't got any and as I've said a million times- you'll be the first I report to-'

'I'm not here about that actually' Lucas interrupts as they follow the older man through to the messy living room. Posters and newspapers are sprawled over the coffee table, take out boxes litter the floor, Peyton's face is everywhere...Lucas hates it. Everywhere he looks her eyes are speaking to him, praying him to save her.

'Oh?' Larry's interest peaks because Lucas' visits if anything are predictable in their nature; they surround his daughter's disappearance.

'It's actually- well I wanted you to meet my friend'

'Right' Larry nods, eying Derek again with more curiosity this time. 'You're not from around here are you? I've not seen you before'

'No I'm not from Tree Hill sir'

'Derek has come to help with the search Larry' Lucas discloses.

Larry cringes noticeably at the announced name. 'Derek' He repeats.

'Yes. I suppose that name doesn't summon the best feelings for you' Derek sadly observes. 'I'm sorry for that Sir but if you'll let me I really would like to be very much involved in any which way I can be of service. Getting Peyton back safely means a great deal to me'

Larry scrapes his hand through his hair as he sinks down onto the sofa and Lucas can't help but think how much this man looks as though he's aged in just mere weeks. It shows in everything; the way he moves, talks and his inability to stay focused.

'Where did you say you two met again?'

'We didn't. We met here' Lucas answers truthfully.

'But you're not from here? Nor live here now?' Larry quizzes confusedly.

'No' Derek affirms. 'The whole reason I met Lucas was because of Peyton'

'You knew my daughter personally?' Larry's eyes narrow with suspicion.

'Yes...well for the last eleven months. You see sir the police thought I was the Derek that Lucas reported. Because I am the Derek he was impersonating. I'm Peyton's biological half brother'

Larry blinks repeatedly, seemingly in a state of shock.

'I know this must be strange for you sir and I have no intention of upsetting you but she's my sister. Maybe not in the conventional sense. And maybe we don't know each other on the same level that most siblings do but we connected. I met her when she was scared and afraid and I spent a lot of time with her and well, I think I helped her a bit-'

'You helped a lot' Lucas interferes. 'She wouldn't go to school Larry and I was scared she was going to start refusing to leave the house. I wasn't much help I, I babied her, I-'

'You were just too close to home Luke. That's all. You love her and sometimes loving someone makes it hard to be the tough guy' Derek offers Lucas a weak smile and Larry watches the exchange with sudden irritation because his daughter needed him and he'd failed her. That's how he sees it.

'Why now?' He abruptly questions. 'Why are you only turning up now? Peyton's been missing for going on five weeks now and you're only just turning up?-'

'Derek is in the army Larry and he was posted overseas just before this happened' Lucas explains.

'And it took a while for Lucas' message to reach me and then a whole lot longer for me to be cleared to post leave' Derek sighs. 'I got here as quickly as I could'

'Right' Larry mutters. 'Right...I'm sorry this is a lot...you, you're nothing like...-'

'I know. We don't look alike' Derek offers him a small amused smile. 'I have my birth certificate if you-'

'I believe you Derek it's just a lot...you know?'

'Right. I get it but I really do want to help. I have a specific set of specialised skills Mr Sawyer. I'm not a cop. I'm not an investigator. But I can help. I can definitely help and I think Lucas and his friends are right. Just because this case is in the cops hands doesn't mean we should just trust them to deal with it. That's why Lucas, Brooke and I...' He pauses and fumbles in his jacket producing a crumpled map and spreads it across the coffee table to reveal a range of intricately highlighted routes and areas. 'We've been talking and we're going to start by working our way around all these areas and targeting the public. The public is our biggest weapon because it takes just one person, one, to have seen something, anything' Derek emphasises. 'And between us and the investigators maybe we can find something substantial for them to go on because currently, from everything Luke has told me, the evidence is minimal and the leads are minute and if it stays that way they're inevitably going to start making other cases more a of a priority and once that happens...' Derek shakes his head. 'We're not going to let that happen'

Larry regards the creased map before him. 'This, this is all...really great guys' He treads carefully. 'But you, you're just kids okay? The police-'

'I'm not a kid. I'm twenty five and I know what I'm talking about'

'Right but Lucas is a kid and I-'

'I'm not a kid Larry!' Lucas exclaims in frustration.

'No?! Well my daughter is and you're the same age right? I know for a fact your Mother will not be on board with this Luke and I'm not about to put you in danger-'

'Larry-'

'Peyton wouldn't want that and your Mum is about to have another baby Lucas, she's bringing another child into the world- that doesn't mean she wants to loose the one she's already got! She's been through so much-'

'Nothing will happen to me! It doesn't matter what you think. It's nice that you're looking out for my Mum but I'm doing this with or without your approval. I just thought when it came to Peyton's interests you'd want to know what we are doing'

Larry expels a heavy breath. 'Of course I do Luke. Of course I do'

'Lucas isn't stupid Larry, I understand your concerns but I can vouch for him-'

'I never said he was stupid. I know you're not a typical teenager Lucas, I know you're mature. I just don't want you getting yourself into trouble. Your mother and I have already had the police having conversations about you're persistent interfering-'

'I'm not interfering! I'm trying to help!'

'I know that son. I know.' He returns to looking at their plan of action and the rooms lulls into silence for a moment. 'Where are we going to start then?' He eventually murmurs.

Lucas smiles brightly. 'Yeah?'

'Yes. Well I'm sick of sitting around and doing as the cops say too. If you're doing this with or without my approval I guess I'm just going to have join the operation. So soldier boy are you just going to stand there or are you going to tell me what our first strategy is?'

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'I was thinking...why, why don't I..' She licks her lips, treading carefully as she eyes him warily. 'Why don't I ring home?' She's sat on the floor in front of the sofa. She's avoided sitting beside him, eager to keep out of his reach but she cranes her neck to look at him now. 'And, and tell them I'm fine and that I ran away with you. That I want to be with you- so they like, stop looking for us. Then we, we wouldn't have to hide from the world- then everyone would know that you, you're not the bad guy they, they're painting you to be' Her hands squirm in front of her as she speaks. It's taken her exactly one hundred and twenty three minutes to pluck up courage to say it. She's been watching the clock ticking tauntingly across from her.

'Baby' He scorns. 'You know very well that I'm not going to agree to that'

'Why?' She scrambles onto her knees. 'Then we wouldn't have to stay down here, wherever here is!'

'Peyton don't be deceptive, it doesn't suit you.'

'I'm not!' She argues dishonestly.

'No? Do you think I'd really be that idiotic? That I could possibly fool for that? You know very well that your father's home phone will certainly be bugged at this point, you know very well that nor he or the police will accept you claiming you happily left with me. They'll want to see you-'

'I'll convince them. I will'

He smiles. 'Oh sweetheart' He puts his finger to her lips, silencing her. 'That's enough now. You're not calling anyone and that's that. I won't do anything, not a single thing that will risk leading them to us. You hear?'

She casts her eyes to the floor, disheartened and shuffles away from him, pulling her legs to her chest and resting her head on her knees. She can avoid looking at him but his words linger. They replay over and over and they don't sit well.

Her brow furrows.

His words spark her silent questioning of the threats that have triggered her recently yielding and complying with his demands. And her quiet doubting soon has her reaching a disturbing conclusion.

'You won't hurt any of them' She suddenly declares, her voice barely audible.

'What?'

She feels misled, completely deceived by his words and she'd done things, had forced herself to satisfy him much to her extreme loathing. She hastily rises to her feet, her stance defensive. 'You won't hurt any of them, I'm so fucking stupid! Why would you? Why would you do that when you'd have to get close to them, when you'd be risking being seen! When you're ultimately risking me being found?! You wouldn't do that. I'm so fucking stupid. I'm fucking stupid'

'Peyton' He follows her to standing and attempts to approach her.

'NO! Don't you touch me' She backs up. 'Don't you dare. I won't do what you want. You'll have to force me. I'm not going to be your obedient good fucking girl! You can threaten me all you like-'

'Peyton-'

'I won't. You think that by blackmailing me to behave as you want means it's real?! Newsflash- it's not!'

'Peyton-'

'If you're not content with what I think, say or do then you can't love me Ian! I'm nothing like what you want, just let me the fuck go!'

'Peyton-'

'I hate you! I hate-' His hand covers her mouth, muffling her riled outburst and simultaneously pushing her back into the wall behind.

'I think that's about enough from you' He murmurs lowly. 'You know that was really disappointing sweetheart'

She wriggles futilely and his hand only presses harder into her face.

'It's my job to help you learn how to behave baby and I wouldn't be being faithful to our love if I didn't take that seriously'

She manages to kick her leg out at a successful angle and he grunts at the blow to his shin.

His resulting smile isn't one of amusement but her aggression has him distracted enough that the hand at her mouth slackens enough for her to ease her jaw open further and try and bite down on any skin her teeth can find purchase on.

'Fuck' He curses and his hand reels away from her face, his opposite arm reacting swiftly and rising.

She knows its coming but it doesn't ease the sting of his hand colliding with her cheek.

'Don't push me Peyton' He growls in warning.

'It's fine for you to slap me and "teach" me how to behave but I can't dish out the same lessons?!' She hisses, blinking in an attempt to cease her watering eyes.

'Oh baby you're so obstinate. You're just pushing me because you're not getting your own way' He states.

Despite her tingling cheek she snorts in utter disbelief. 'Can you hear yourself?!' She exclaims. 'Every time you've fucking hit me it's been instigated by the fact that you're not getting what you want! That I'm not doing what you want!'

'But you're wrong baby, I'm not unreasonable. You think I like hurting you? I'm not an animal. It's not your fault you didn't have a good upbringing. I didn't either. But I found god and god led me to you and has trusted in me to bring you into the light. Sometimes the only way to break a person's bad habits is to physically liberate you of them and that means you learning self control'

She laughs then. She can't help it, regardless of how he has her pinned up against the wall, she's suddenly not so scared of him because he's already hurt her in a million ways and she can't see how it can get much worse. And it's funny. It really is funny to her because nothing that comes out of his evil mouth makes an ounce of sense.

'You think it's funny? That I've committed myself to you? That I've vowed to take care of you?'

'It's fucking hysterical because you actually believe that you're my saviour! Every word you say is nonsense. You're fucking sick. I'm not some poor little lost girl that you're saving- the reality is you think you can treat me like an animal- that you can break me and suddenly I'll be at your beck and call. That's all there is to it. But it won't work Ian, because I'm not destined to be with you and no matter what you do to me or force me to do- I'll never love you. Ever' She shakes her head and the tears that have been threatening to fall for the last ten minutes finally succeed in spilling free. 'You made me think...I'd never have...I'd never have done _that_...'

'Done what baby?' He feigns confusion but she knows full well that he understands what she's referring to. His sly expression has her averting her stare and his lips curl in mirth. 'You're not talking about the special time we spent together last night are you? Because baby you should never feel bad for gaining pleasure from satisfying me'

She snivels in repulsion.

'It's not wrong baby. Our relationship is pure and virtuous and god recognises that and sanctions our love'

'Do you even know what virtuous means?' she hotly spits. 'I'm starting to think there isn't a god- not if he can make someone like you'

He hits her again then and he catches her off-guard. It's harder this time and her lack of preparation means the force of his hand against her cheek sends her head careening sideways.

She yelps this time and he seemingly feeds off of her distress. 'I think it's time for me to go out now before we have a really big fight' He gruffly announces. 'And you should stay right here' He forces her to her knees, it doesn't take much effort, she's wobbly and her legs quickly give way. 'And pray to god for forgiveness' He instructs sternly.

Her hands slap against the floor as his he abruptly release her and she struggles to fathom what just happened because it all happened so fast.

One minute she was standing the next she was on the floor, a resonating ringing noise sounding in her ears, her nose tingling and the stinging in her cheek intensified.

Her vision falters and her lashes flutter as she tries to follow his figure and its moments later when she finally registers the words that he'd spoken.

'Where are you going?' She feels her hands up the wall as she pulls herself off the floor.

'I won't be long. I need to do some things-'

'I'll come. I'll help' She's standing again now and dismissing the aches and pains that have been inflicted upon her yet again. She's hurriedly shadowing him as panic lodges itself in the form of a lump at the back of her throat.

'I think you know you're not ready for that yet sweetheart, besides you've got some atoning to do' He asserts coldly. She shakes her head in dispute but he's not watching. He pulls two bolts back on the door that she's tried to get through on more than one occasion and for the first time she witnesses the key that possesses her freedom as he produces it from a chain in his trouser pocket.

She swallows thickly. 'I am ready. I'll be so good.' She fears she was wrong. She fears he will hurt them She fears he's leaving to follow through with his taunts and her display of heroic defiance in the last half hour is gone in all of a second. 'I swear I'll be so good-'

'Not today' He slides the key into it's lock and turns it.

'Don't leave me here on my own. Please I don't want to be on my own. Let me come. I'll do whatever you tell me, I promise-'

'Peyton. Not today' His patience wanes as she continues to babble behind him determinedly. 'Peyton' He turns abruptly, his expression stern. 'Not today'

'I'm coming' She launches herself at the door and he's taken aback momentarily, so much so that she gets it open a fraction.

A split second. Stairs. The taunting light from above. A hidden land that she longs for. Freedom.

Gone.

She's hauled backward and the door crashes loudly as he slams it.

And the little glimpse of the world above sends her into a frenzy.

Her arms and legs flail angrily as he drags her further back toward the bedroom.

'Let go! Let go! I'm going. I'm going with you. You have to let me! You can't keep me down here all the time! Let me go! Let me the fuck go!' He gives up on yanking her behind him, instead he hikes her uncooperative body up and carries her over his shoulder but that doesn't stop. She pounds her little fists against his back the whole way, not until he throws her down onto the bed does she stop.

Her unyielding body bounces on the mattress and she wastes no time in presuming her vigorous battle for escape despite the sudden dizziness that hits her as her blood flows back from her head.

He's hurriedly vacated the room and she lurches herself upright and off of the bed in pursuit but he's back in the doorway before she's gotten far and she wishes her slender form wasn't so god damn useless because with just one arm around her waist he's scooped her up and has her back on the bed in mere seconds and this time he sits atop of her, straddling her waist and effectively pinning her down.

The reasoning behind his momentary disappearance is suddenly apparent to her as he wrestles with her arms and tries to tie them with a piece of rope.

She doesn't make it easy and instead of trying to push him away her hands evade their binding and she latches onto him because if he's here with her he's not near anyone else and she wants to keep it that way. She can't let him leave because if he hurts anyone, anyone at all, because of her, she doesn't know what she'll do.

'What are you going to do? You're not going to hurt them are you? I didn't mean it. Nothing I said, I didn't mean it. Hit me, punish me. Don't hurt any of them. Let me make it up to you. I want you. I'll be so good' She clings to him, her hands locking around his neck.

'Peyton-' His voice is eerily calm, like a parent that's incredible patience is being pushed to the limit.

She rambles on, a crazed mania in her eyes as she clenches her legs around him as hard as she can. 'Make love to me' she requests with fever.

His head bows as she hangs onto him persistently and he welcomes her calculative advances for a moment, a slight smirk on his face as she kisses him with purpose. 'Mmm'

'You want me don't you?' She makes an effort at sounding sultry in her endeavour to reel him in.

'I always want you baby' He answers slyly.

'Have me then' She strokes her nose against his temptingly. 'Show me how much you love me'

'Mm baby that is really, really tempting right now' He husks, gently coaxing her hands from around his neck as he kisses her and she doesn't fight, she thinks she's winning but then she feels the rope and her arms try to burst free from his hold but this time he means business. 'Calm down baby'

'No, you said you want me-'

'I do baby. And I'll have you when I get back...again and again...I promise' He drawls and she cringes and she's thankful his mouth is practically on hers because he's distracted and doesn't seem to take note of her disgust. 'Now if you stay still I'll be able to do this so its not that uncomfortable'

'You don't need to tie me up!'

'Well you've already shown me that I do-'

'I want to come with you is all!'

'Yes, and I've said no and you've not listened and now I'm afraid it's either this or I give you a little something to help calm you down but I don't think you want that but by all means if you prefer-'

'No. No' She relents, her arms slowly succumbing to their predicament because he's right. She doesn't want to be forced into unconsciousness. She needs to be awake and alert. She needs to make sure he can't do harm to anyone else.

He pulls the two ends swiftly and tightly and she gasps audibly but he takes no notice.

'You're not going to hurt any of them are you?' She whispers, seeking out his stare but he's fixated on tying her bound wrists to the bars of the bed head. He doesn't answer.

'Ian please don't do anything. Please. I know I was wrong. I know that. You don't need to prove anything. I swear I'll be good for you. I'll be so good-'

'Shhh baby'

'I swear I'll never disrespect you again. Please forgive me'

'Shh. It's not my forgiveness you need to ask for baby. I want you to pray to god whilst I'm gone. Repent your sins and beg for his forgiveness' He commands.

He's finished with the restraints and her hands instinctively try to manoeuvre out of the secured knots.

'Don't wriggle baby, you'll only hurt your arms'

'Stay with me. Please stay-'

He kisses her forehead. 'I won't be too long. Now what are you going to do while I'm gone?'

'Ian please. You love me right? You won't hurt anyone if you do because it'll kill me, it will-'

His forefinger cuts off her words, resting across her lips while his thumb hooks beneath her chin, gently pressing, effectively keeping her mouth shut and halting anymore of her pleading.

'You're getting yourself all worked up. You don't need to worry baby I'll always take care of you and I'll always do what's best for us. Now, What are you going to do while I'm gone?' He drags his hand away from her mouth, letting them brush away the tears that keep settling on her cheeks. 'Hey baby?'

She closes her eyes and her voice is choked as she caves an answers. 'Pray for forgiveness'

There's nothing she can do now; she knows he's not going to be persuaded to stay.

'That's my good girl' His lips graze hers and his tongue possessively invades her mouth and for a moment she thinks he might have changed his mind, perhaps he will stay after all but his advances eventually rescind and his weight disappears only she doesn't feel relief; she's still suffocating as he disappears.

And he's right, she will pray while he's gone, she'll pray over and over, for protection for the people she's sure she's endangered, for forgiveness because if anyone gets hurt it's all on her and she'll forever hold herself responsible.


	7. Chapter 7

His mother would probably throttle him if she knew what he was about to do right now. Come to think of it, he can think of a whole handful of people that would have something to say about his whereabouts but this wasn't a predetermined meeting. He'd just been driving, his seemingly favourite pastime these days; it made him feel like he was being useful in someway and even if he didn't acquire anything from his late night expeditions, he always came back with a clearer head. But tonight, for the first time something, or more accurately, someone, had caught his attention. And he can't not approach her, can't leave and come back because he doesn't know if there'll be a next time and he won't risk that because if she can help, in any slight way...he flexes his hands as he leaves the safety of his car and crosses the dark road to the other side where she's stood beneath the glow of a flickering street lamp.

The girl that's stood beside her slips away wordlessly when it's more than apparent that he's interested in one person only.

'I know you. I, I recognise you. You're the girl that had Peyton's jacket in the hospital-'

'Look unless you're interested in this' Her hand wavers down her body. 'Then I'm not talking honey'

'Five minutes! I just want five minutes of your time. I'll pay you if you-'

'Look kid, see that guy over there?' She points to a figure lurking in the shadows of a nearby ally. 'In less than sixty seconds he'll be over here chasing your ass off because if you aint interested in buying this' her hand crudely gestures to herself again. 'Then you're getting in the way of other fellas that are'

'Okay, okay. I am. I want that... You..Where, where do..what shall...'

She smirks as he shifts uncomfortably before her.

'Aren't you going to ask how much?'

'I don't care'

Her eyebrow kinks. 'Well lover boy, I guess you better show me to your car huh?' She links her arm through his and she teeters along beside him in her heels.

His stare flitters around nervously and he doesn't feel safe, not until he's back in his car.

'I'm not, I'm not interested in...well you know...I don't...I'll pay you, I will. But I don't want-'

'It's alright honey I know' Her eyes have softened and she seems to have let her guard down now they're sheltered and out of view. 'Just drive ok? You're going to get me fucking killed if they know I'm blabbing my mouth about shit that's none of my business-'

'I'm sorry, I really don't want to get you into any trouble but this really is important and-'

'I know. It's about the missing girl right?'

Lucas takes his eye of the road and glances at her.

'Look where you're going!' She exclaims.

'S-sorry' He splutters, quickly realising he needs to find somewhere to pull over because he can't drive and have this conversation.

He continues silently until they come to a dark end of a quiet one way street.

He warily turns the engine and headlights off, eager for the darkness of the night to swallow them up.

'You spent the night with him didn't you?' He tries to keep his voice calm but he's frustrated because its evident she knows all too well why he's so desperate to speak with her and he wants to throttle her for not coming forward with information because this is Peyton's life she's playing with, it's not just some petty little crime. 'You remember me don't you? You remember seeing me in the hospital? You had her jacket and you were dressed just like her- From behind I thought it was her.'

'Huh well you saw what he did to me- he didn't seem to agree, I didn't pull off your girlfriend very well' She laughs.

Lucas swallows thickly. He's not laughing. Nothing about this is funny. 'I'm sorry...that he-he hurt you' She doesn't look anything like she had that day he'd seen her, she's not black and blue with a bloody lip and a gash in her leg. She's dolled up, her head missing the blonde curly haired wig she'd donned, instead it's her natural brown and she's right, she's nothing like Peyton. And he wants her to dismiss his accusations, wants her to suddenly yell that he's crazy, that she's never seen him before in her life because he so badly doesn't want the man responsible for the state she was in those months ago, to be the same man that is with Peyton right now. 'I'm sorry-'

'You're not the one that did it babe. Look it's no biggy, I've been in this profession for a good while now- for the most part you come back in one piece but there's always going to be the odd fucked up psycho that wants more than you can give.'

'How could you not come forward? You must have seen her in the newspapers, you must have seen his face and known straight away-'

'I'm a hooker okay? This shit comes with the territory. If I go to the cops I'm essentially putting my ass on the line-'

'He has her!' Lucas exclaims. 'Don't you get that? He put you in hospital after one night! You need to come 's been with him for nearly five weeks now'

'Look I don't expect you to understand but I can't help you-'

'Why did you come with me then?'

'I don't know! But if I had any vital information I'd have reported it okay?! I'm not that heartless. But I can't help. I spent the night with him, that's all there is. I dressed up for him- that's hardly out of the ordinary but then he turned nasty. Said I was speaking wrong, that she didn't do this or that, that she was beautiful, that I was just a slut. And that's when it turned violent and he fucking stabs me in the leg- says I'm meant to have a scar there or some crazy shit. Well I fucking do now...'

Lucas closes his eyes tight. 'Did he, I dunno, did he say anything about where he came from or where he was going to go after Tree Hill? Anything at all, however little or insignificant you think it is. Please, please try and think'

'I wasn't there to get his life story'

Lucas pinches the bridge of his nose because he feels deflated; upon recognising her he'd been filled with such hope and it's just another dead end.

'He's not the only guy I've pretended to be some girl for but this, it, I dunno it was different somehow. It was more than just some attraction, he was infatuated, he had her pictures all over the wall, he was obsessed. And I don't think it was just about wanting to fuck her'

Lucas cringes at her bluntness.

'He, when he was pretending I was her he, he talked about how happy we were going to be, about how perfect our life was going to be...what I'm, I'm trying to say is I don't think he'll of killed her. He wasn't one of those types you know? He wouldn't be satisfied by that, he, he wanted to be with her, like in a relationship'

Lucas doesn't know if she means her opinion to be reassuring but the last thing it is, is that. It's the opposite and he suddenly wants out of this car but she's talking again.

'He- I doubt this is any help'

Lucas averts his stare back to her, urging her to divulge her thoughts to him regardless of whether she deems them insignificant.

'When he, when he spoke, he, he had a twang- he sounded like, well he reminded me of how my MoMa would speak- she was born and raised in Southern Louisiana- I use to visit her when I was little- hell, I'd probably be living a whole different life is she hadn't gone and died on me. She probably would of took me in, she was always yelling at my Mumma that she didn't treat me right...' She blinks and shakes her head because she's gotten off track. 'I'm no freaking expert but it, it's just not the same as here, not exactly, you know? I know that isn't gonna help you find where he's taken her but maybe if you know where he's from to begin with...' She shrugs her shoulders. 'It might help'

'You're right' He nods slowly and scrapes his hand through his hair. It's minute, it's an opinion, a hooker's opinion. But nonetheless he'll take it over nothing because the police don't seem to be getting any closer at identifying who this man actually is and he doesn't get why it's so hard, he doesn't understand how her abductor has seemingly slipped through the system. The most they have on him is a handful of locations in the nearby area of where he'd been staying at the times that he'd been communicating with her via the internet and each motel or apartment he's listed as none other than Derek Sommers.

'She must have been a smart girl, choosing a good boy like you...'

'She is smart' Lucas corrects tersely. He's sick of people talking about her in the past tense like she's not coming back. He can't afford to start thinking like that.

He rifles in his pocket for his phone. This meeting has him eager to embark upon this line of enquiry and he's suddenly desperate to contact the real Derek and gain his perspective on the matter.

His eyes narrow as he keys in his password and 6 missed calls light up his screen. He hastily opens up the blinking message.

_Nate: Man ur abt 2b a big bro again! Ur Mum dsnt wnt u 2 freak bt Hales n I hv jst taken her 2 hospital. Tried ringing. Jst gt here as sn as u cn. _

'Shit. I have to go' He mutters, shoving his phone away. 'Can I give you my number? In case you remember anything?

He doesn't wait for an answer, he's fumbling around in the side pocket of the car door for a pen and locates a scrap of paper.

'Sure but I really have told you-'

'I know, just incase though' He insists, hurriedly scrawling down his number 'Er, do you want me to take you-'

'No I'm good here, I can walk'

'Okay that's great' He hands over the crumpled number that's written on the back of the many missing Peyton Sawyer flyers that are lurking everywhere. 'How much do you-'

'It's on the house' She smiles and he stops rifling through his wallet, his squinting eyes finding hers.

'But I want to-'

'Yeah well I don't want your money' She winks and lets herself out of his car.

'I don't want you getting into trouble because of me-'

'I won't. I can handle myself.'

'I didn't even get to know your name-'

'You don't need my name babe' She bends down, peering through the open window. 'For the record, I really do hope you find her'

LPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLP

'Where is she?!' He bleats as he catapults into the waiting area, almost colliding into the opposite wall as he comes to an abrupt halt.

'She's fine' Nathan and Brooke are on their feet and Haley is sprawled sleepily over several chairs, her hand protectively over her swollen belly.

'She's okay?' He repeats.

'Uhuh' Brooke smiles.

'It's early right? It wasn't meant to be-'

'It's okay. The baby got a bit distressed and they ended up delivering by C-section but we just saw your Mum and apart from being exhausted she's doing great and your little sister- God she's so beautiful Luke!' Brooke chimes excitedly and Lucas fleetingly thinks he hasn't seen her smile at all in the last month but then he can't think of anything at all accept Brooke's last words.

'Sister?'

'Yes big brother, it's a girl'

'And she, the baby, she's okay?'

'Healthy as healthy can be' Haley pushes herself up from her seat with some assistance from Nathan before hugging Lucas. 'Congratulations best friend'

'Th-thanks' He loiters, he's seemingly in a stupor and Brooke bites her lip in entertainment.

'Well are you going to just stand there? I think your Mum might just want to see you'

'Right, right- where..?' He looks around aimlessly and with firm hands Nathan directs him down the correct corridor.

'Room 204- right at the end. We'll wait here'

'Thanks man'

He begins the short journey down the hallway and suddenly he's moving oh so slowly. He'd rushed here, had run up the two sets of stairs to the maternity ward because the lifts wouldn't have got him there fast enough and now his feet are taking their precious time because he's unsure what state his mother is going to be in; he's worried his sister's birth is going to be a catalyst to her grief because his uncle, his little sister's father will never see his daughter, he'll never get to watch her grow and he _knows_, knows that she'd never have wanted it like this. Being a single parent had been hard on her and he knows this time round she'd have wanted it differently, of course she would, who wouldn't? But Keith had been taken from her, him and his newborn sibling. And his mother was alone again. Only this time it would be different in comparison to when she'd had him, because she _had_ him and he was hell bent on staying around to help her in giving his sister the best possible life.

It's that positive thought that has him entering the room.

Her smile is wide as she looks up from the bundle in her arms and realises it's her son. 'Lucas'

'Mum' He ventures toward the bed. 'Are you okay?'

'Sore but this makes it worth while don't you think?'

His eyes tentatively look down at the small baby that lays across her chest and he's instantly overcome with a warm feeling in his chest.

She's smaller than he'd imagined but she's got a head of dark curls already and a sweet button nose.

'Here, you take her' Karen murmurs.

He's awkward at first but under his mother's coaxing words he holds his sleeping little sister for the first time and sits down in the chair by the bed.

She's warm and unmistakably real- nothing like those virtual dolls his sex ed class had bought in to enlighten them on how much hard work a baby was.

'I- I didn't think it'd be like this- I mean I knew I'd like her but I thought I'd have to get to know her you know?'

Karen laughs lightly at his muttered musings.

He smiles sheepishly, a slight blush touching his cheeks.

'She's pretty easy to love huh?'

'She's beautiful'

'She's got her Daddy's brown eyes, you'll see when she wakes up'

'He'd be so proud Mum' Lucas softly murmurs.

'You mean he is, he'll be watching over her always'

He tears his eyes away from the sleeping angel in his arms and looks at his mother again. On closer inspection he can tell she's been crying and she's being strong under his watchful eye.

'And you Mum, he's watching over you too' He declares. 'It's okay to be happy and sad'

'When did my little boy become some wise?' She reaches out and strokes her hand fondly over his cheek.

'I'm not so little anymore more' He smirks. 'She's the baby'

'Yes she is. But you'll always be my baby boy' She teases and shakes his head and with a roll of the eyes averts his stare back to the content baby.

'What do you think about Lily?'

'Lily' He tests it out on the tip of his tongue. 'Lily, it's pretty, really pretty Mum' He decides.

She smiles. 'Good because I think I kind of like it too'

'It's perfect'

'Lily Peyton Scott'

Lucas' stare slowly migrates away from the newborn little girl to fixate on his mother again. 'What did you just say?' He asks quietly.

'Her name, her full name is Lily Peyton Scott'

He's defenceless to the tears that well in his eyes. He doesn't know what he feels. He knows it's meant to be a sweet gesture but it feels wrong somehow; he doesn't want his baby sister to have her name, not in this way, not like Peyton's dead and Lily's naming is in memory of her.

Karen seemingly can read his thoughts. 'Not in remembrance of Peyton, but because she's strong and spirited and I hope Lily will learn a thing or to from her when she's home again with us'

And her gentle words suddenly make it the special sentiment that it is.

He nods, his glassy eyed stare drifting back to the baby in his arms. 'Lily Peyton Scott' He softly murmurs and with that her little brown eyes flicker open.

LPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLP

'Congratulations' Derek smiles as he looks at the picture the proud brother is showing him on his phone.

'She's kinda cute right?'

Derek chuckles. 'Yeah, you're definitely going to have trouble on your hands there' He smirks.

'I'll keep her in check'

'Sure you will' Derek drawls. 'She'll have you wrapped around her little baby fingers in no time'

'I think she already does' Lucas admits, his smile still intact as he flips through his pictures of his less than a day old sister again. The sequence of new images finally ends and Peyton fills his screen instead. His jubilant smile wanes into one of sadness. 'Mum decided to call her Lily Peyton Scott' He divulges.

Derek is quiet for a moment, choked by this information. Not that Lucas knows it, his appearance strong and stoic as always. 'She'll be a total girl and cry when she finds that out' He eventually murmurs in an attempt to brighten Lucas' sudden disheartened disposition.

'Yeah'

'You're lucky you know, getting to have a relationship with Lily from day one. I didn't get that. I hated Peyton for a long time. I always knew she existed and to a kid, it seemed like my Dad had been taken away by her Mum and her. I'd had him for seven years and then he just left. She didn't even get that though did she? He didn't stick around long enough to learn her name even'

'I'm sorry man' Lucas sympathetically regards him.

'Yeah, me too. I'm sorry I didn't seek her out- she contacted me more or less as soon as she found out about me. She wanted to know me, to be a part of my life and I could have come to her so many years ago.'

'She understands Derek, you were a kid yourself'

'Mm' He nods. 'But I could have been there for her you know? I could have kicked your sorry ass for goggling at her for too long' He smirks.

Lucas cringes and holds his hands up in the air. 'Hey, I've always been a sweet honourable guy'

Derek sniggers. 'Sure you are' He chortles sarcastically. 'I've seen the way you look at her'

'I kinda like her' He shrugs.

'Yeah, I can see that' Derek nods. 'All jokes aside, I do approve you know? I know you two are young but it's not just a fling is it?'

Lucas shakes his head vigorously. 'I love her, always have, since the first moment I saw her and it took us a while to get on the same page but we're there now...we were there until...' He shakes his head.

Derek squeezes the teenager's shoulder.

'You know I told you about the girl I saw in the hospital that time?' Lucas abruptly redirects his emotions and focuses on the reasoning for his need to meet with her brother so early in the morning.

'The one dressed like Peyton, the one with her jacket?'

'Yeah. I saw her last night'

'What?'

'I found her-'

'Luke what have I said about telling me what you're doing when it comes to this-'

'I wasn't looking for her. I was driving and I saw her on the street corner and just recognised her immediately and I couldn't just leave'

Derek blinks at Lucas' hasty explanation.

'She's a hooker. She spent the night with _him_. _He_ did that to her, put her in the hospital, beat her up because she wasn't _being_ Peyton convincingly enough' He shudders in revulsion. He can't escape it; horrific visions have taken up residence in his head, are torturing him constantly because he can't not assume _he's _hurt her, especially after his conversation with the prostitute, now he knows for certain that that psycho was responsible for the girl's trip to A&E.

'Why hasn't she gone to the police? -'

'I know, I tried to make her see sense but she's convinced it'll get her in trouble and said she had no information that could help'

Derek clenches his hands around the slacks of wood beneath them.

'She said it sounded like he could be from southern Louisiana to her. And I know it's a long shot but-'

'No, that, that's good. We should look into it' Derek nods positively. 'It can't hurt to be thorough. I'll go down there, it'll make more sense than making a thousand phone calls'

Lucas nods.

'He's hurt her hasn't he? I saw what he did to that girl Derek, he did that to her and she was a willing participant- It's highly unlikely that he's not hurting her, with everything we know isn't it?...' His voice wavers as he looks at the experienced soldier pleadingly, desperate for a disagreeing answer.

Derek grits his teeth and stares ahead.

'I'm not going to lie to you. You're right, it's unlikely that she'll come back to us completely unharmed' It's not the reply Lucas wants and he shakes his head slowly back and forth.'But he hurt that girl because she wasn't Peyton. Peyton has that advantage doesn't she? If anyone can get around him it'll be her. She's his weakness.-'

'Yes but he's disillusioned, he thinks she loves him and when she doesn't... how will he have reacted when she didn't reciprocate?' He discloses his inner most worries.

'She's smart Luke- she'll do what she has to, to survive-'

'She's not invincible Derek!' Lucas exclaims, all but lurching from the bench in favour of pacing back and forth on the pavement before them. 'She's so small!- you think your combat training will have given her the skills to fend him off?! If he, if he wants _th-that_ from her he...god he's raped her hasn't he?' His fingers curl into fists. 'He couldn't, how could anyone? I can't, I don't...'

'Lucas' Derek joins him in standing and intercepts Lucas' frenzied walking. He grips the panicked teenager's shoulders firmly. 'Look at me. I promise you when we find them I will make him suffer like you've never known, I will kill him, I will make sure he never touches her again and she will come back from this. She's going to need you more than ever and she's going to push you and you're going to have to be so fucking strong, but you can't give up on her. You already made your choice and there's no going back now'

'I can't stand it. I can't stand knowing that she's being harmed and I can't do anything about it'

'I know Luke, I know but you are doing something. You're doing everything you possibly can. And when we get her back it'll be thanks to everything you've done. So don't give up-'

'I'm not, it's just...'

'Hard. I know. Look I'm going to go look into this Louisiana thing. Why don't you go back to the hospital and see your Mum and the baby and concentrate on them right now. You can carry on working your way up the routes we've highlighted and ask around with Larry and Brooke '

'No I, I want to come with you. Haley and Nate will look after Mum and Lily and Larry and Brooke can continue with everything else. I have to come too'

'Okay' Derek agrees, he's not going to argue, he's swiftly come to learn that when Lucas Scott decides something he won't be budged on the matter. 'Come on then, lets get out of here' He gestures for Lucas to lead the way.

It happens so fast, too fast, he's only just turned around when Derek's voice sounds fiercely from behind him.

'Get down!'

One moment he's standing, the next a heavy hand pushes him and he's reeling forward, his knees smashing into the concrete below.

He grimaces.

A grunt sounds behind him and despite his sudden dead legs he scuffles, his palms grazing against the pavement as he twists himself around.

His eyes expand and shock disables his body's ability to stay composed. He trembles.

Because he's sprawled out on the ground and there's blood, too much. It seeps through Derek's white shirt, the cotton swiftly becoming dark crimson in colour.

Lucas gulps and the adrenaline that's been unleashed suddenly takes a hold, seizing him into action. He tears his jacket off, pressing it against the Derek's chest.

'It's okay- it-it's okay-'

People have gathered and he suddenly can hear the hum of anxious bystanders.

'Someone call an ambulance' He demands. 'Please'

'Lu-cas' Lucas' dilated eyes snap up to regard Derek's frail face. 'St-stop' The wounded soldier's hand firmly takes over the job that Lucas' shaky blood coated fingers are attempting. 'It- it was him. Went- He-he went toward the riverc-court' He rasps.

'What?'

'G-go' Derek growls, the hand that isn't at his chest, reaching into the back of his pants.

'Don't move!' Lucas exclaims disbelievingly as he watches helplessly as Derek arches his back and awkwardly retrieves a gun.

'G-go' He barks, throwing the weapon at a traumatised Lucas. 'Lucas!'

He blinks but Derek's aggressive shout racketing through him is enough to make him spring into action and he gets it together. Quickly.

It's like someone's clicked a button. He's focused and snatches up the revolver and without a second thought he's moving- pushing his way through the crowd because he knows who did this. And he knows all too well who that bullet was intended for and he's suddenly a soldier and he sprints into pursuit of the felon. He feels closer to Peyton than he has since she was taken, like she's just within his reach and he his legs move ever quicker because he feels like he's being dangled a lifeline and he's hellbent on not letting it slip through his fingers.


	8. Chapter 8

Her arms ache and her wrists are sore, probably more so than they would have been if she hadn't been futilely trying to tug them free since he'd left. She's long since given up though, resigned to the fact that she isn't escaping anytime soon. Her steadfast efforts have resulted in one thing only; discomfort. She's cold, the bedding is now neglected in a heap on the floor and her dress has hiked up and is offering little in the way of warmth. Any slight movement sends a twinge down her arms and her fingers are tingling with pins and needles.

She startles as she hears the loud bang of a door closing and vibrating through the wall.

'I-Ian?' She calls tentatively.

The thumps of heavy footsteps make her stomach flutter with apprehension. She's waiting for him to fly into the room but it doesn't happen. Instead a racket ensues from beyond her prison and her fear crescendos. Her heart races because he's clearly not happy and she doesn't want to be subjected to his anger.

Another stream of clattering sounds from behind the bedroom door and she curls onto her side as best she can and tries to pretend she's still alone but it's a pointless game. Because of course she can't. Her heart races and her fingers become clammy because she's been waiting desperately for this moment, for his return and now she wants him gone again. Her mind is reeling because something other than her has upset him and she's terrified as to what it is. She's terrified about where he's been and what he's been doing. He's been gone for what feels like forever and that alone doesn't ease the knots in her stomach. She doesn't want to know what he's done, is petrified that her whole world is about to be turned upside down because the only thing that is keeping her sane is remembering that the people she loves are still out there, are safe, are in Tree Hill where they should be.

His abrupt entrance into the bedroom moments later causes her body to convulse in surprise.

Her head whirls around.

'Hi baby' His smile completely contradicts his discernible unease. He's all but panting after taking his rage out on the furniture in the adjacent room.

His face is red and a sheen of sweat has his damp hair sticking to his head and she can truly say she's more scared of him now than she ever has been.

She shies back into the mattress as he skulks toward her.

'My, you just can't help but make a mess can you? Even when you're tied up' He kicks the bedding on the floor as he passes and she's bracing herself for his violence because despite his smiling face he doesn't look the least bit happy, nor sound it. But it doesn't come. His gaze traces down her 'Mm' His hand reaches out eagerly and her body jerks as his fingertips come into contact with her skin in the opposite way she'd been awaiting. But somehow it hurts just the same. He trails a path up her bare leg and she closes her eyes as it ventures up the inside of her lengthy limb. 'But how can I care when you look so lovely for me'

She wishes she'd not wriggled around so furiously in his absence because she wants the protection of her dress covering her completely, but as it is, it's rucked up uncomfortably and is an invitation to his unwanted attentions. And the way he's looking at her, she feels like she's naked.

'Ian' It's a weak appeal for him to stop.

He doesn't. His breath hitches as his fingers near her underwear and he suddenly lunges onto her.

She yelps and draws in a sharp breath as his heavy weight settles on her and she feels impossibly helpless because her arms are still secured above her head and she's completely vulnerable to him.

His hands run up and down her thighs before shifting her legs further apart to cradle him. She gasps loudly.

'Mm, this needs to come all the way off' He hoists the fabric of her dress up higher and she can literally feel the goose pimples appearing on her flesh as the skin of her stomach is exposed and she knows it makes no difference, knows that free or not she can't stop him, but just the same she'd rather have the option of pushing against his broad shoulders.

He kisses the spot just above her belly button and her brain and limbs can't seem to connect because her arms endeavour to escape yet again despite the ropes binding them.

'Wait aren't, aren't you going to talk to me?' She musters feebly.

His nose sweeps up her torso.

'What do you want to talk about baby?' His words whisper across her lips and she can't get her mouth to respond.

He smiles and she can see his desire for her is calming the manic look in his eyes and that's why when he kisses her a second later she dutifully reciprocates, that and she's terrified of the repercussions if she doesn't.

He grunts into her mouth and it reverberates against her lip and she can't keep up the act.

'Untie me' Her words are muffled by his mouth.

He seemingly doesn't hear her plea, or chooses not to.

'I missed you baby' One of his hands grips her hip while the other slips beneath her, cupping her back side and pressing her against him. 'Did you miss me?' He husks.

A nauseating whimper is brewing in the back of her throat but she refuses to let it escape.

'I'm sorry I was gone longer than I thought'

'What did you do?!' Her eyes are wide as she bravely speaks. Her question successfully diverts his attention from her body and she studies him apprehensively as she awaits his reply.

He doesn't answer.

'Ian'

His weight disappears most suddenly then but she still feels like she's suffocating.

He stays silent for a good while and then his voice sounds scarily deep.

'You did this. You made me do this' He harshly jabs his finger through the air at her.

'Wh-what? Wh-what did I do?' She stammers. She can feel herself starting to tremble and the sensitive chaff marks at her wrists burn with her insistent movements.

'I risked everything. You forced me to take action. I can't have you constantly thinking of him'

Her thumping heart skips a beat, the unpleasant sensation making her dizzy. _Lucas. Lucas. Lucas. Please be okay. Please be okay. You have to be okay. _She closes her eyes tight and pictures his face and hopes to god that she'll see him one day again. 'What did you do?' Her words are a breathy whisper and he's too busy pacing that he does't hear.

And it's too much. She can't bear his evasiveness, she needs answers and her desperation has her screeching.

'What did you do?!' Her shrill delivery actually makes him jump and he halts in his tracks. 'What did you do?!' She jerks her arms and the ends of the heavy rope sound loudly against the raw iron bars of the bed, protesting along with her.

He gazes at her vacantly and ungiving.

And as quick as her anger had had her screaming, it's gone, dissolved into desperation because her outburst is powerless, she is powerless.

He blinks and he's like jekyll and hyde because he's seemingly composed himself as he approaches her again and sits down, perching on the edge of the mattress this time, looking down at her sympathetically. 'I'm sorry sweetheart, lets get you out of these ropes, you look horribly uncomfortable'

Tears roll down her cheeks as she worriedly fixes her stare on his face and she can't wait, she can't be patient; she's unsettled and flustered and she needs answers.

'What did you do?' She dares to ask again, her voice choked and feeble.

'He's in your head but you're mine not his-'

'I know' She nods in agreement as though she can change whatever it is he's done by giving him the answers he craves.

'I warned you-'

'I know, I know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. What did you do Ian?' She begs.

'...I shot him'

He eagerly watches her reaction. It's like she's been paralysed. He's freed her wrists now but they stay rigidly fixed above her head as though they're still tied in place.

Her green eyes are glistening in the dim light, wide but unseeing and he wonders if she heard because she's not behaving as he'd been anticipating she would on his journey home.

He moves her arms for her and she makes a hissing noise and it's the first sign of life she's made since his revelation and it's that first whimper of noise that triggers her breakdown.

She shakes her head and tries to scramble back away from his reach but her sore arms aren't functioning properly yet and all she achieves is bashing her head on the wall.

She doesn't react; what's another bump to her bruised body? It's the last thing on her mind because no amount of physical pain can ever compare to what she's feeling right now. Of that she's certain. He could never ever hurt her as much as this.

'No...no...no-no-no-no!' She's uncontrollable and her chant is insistently repeated and he wonders what she's expecting to achieve by her dramatic song and dance, as entertained as he is by it.

She's scrambled onto her front, her head down against the mattress, her body rocking rhythmically and then every now and again her limbs fight against her self soothing, lurching out and thumping against the bed.

'You can stop with your temper tantrum he isn't even fucking dead' He finally spits when his ears can no longer endure her display.

Her head darts up, her face splotchy and tearstained as she looks at him. 'Wh-what?'

'Lucas fucking Scott. Isn't. Dead' He seethes.

'B-but- y-you s-said-'

'I said I shot him. I did, I shot at him but he was pushed out of the way'

She feels relief. She does. But she's not sure she believes him. She's not sure of anything, only that he'd be so cruel as to deceive her just so he can deliver the heart ricocheting news all over again.

'He's okay?'

His eyes narrow and she instinctively moves until her back is pressed against the cold wall.

'Lover boy is sadly fine' He grinds out and she's seen that look he's giving her. It's the look that had possessed him when he'd hit her over and over and she's anticipating a similar treatment because she can't hide her emotions, can't pretend, not when it's Lucas' life he's talking about. 'You shouldn't be happy Peyton, you should be disappointed'

She closes her eyes. _Breathe. Breathe. Breathe._ She reminds herself. She doesn't dare say a word. Lucas is okay. He is. He has to be and if she's going to keep it that way she daren't respond to his riled declaration.

She doesn't feel like all is okay though. She doesn't feel like she's getting the whole story, she's not sure of anything and she's gone from being numbingly cold to sweating under the mental strain that's being inflicted upon her.

She keeps her eyes shut. 'Who p-pushed him? M-my Dad? M-my Dad p-pushed him out the way?' She shakes her head back and forth, pleading it to not be the case because it's suddenly dawning on her. Just because Lucas isn't supposedly shot it doesn't mean someone else isn't; someone intercepted the bullet that was meant for Lucas Scott.

'No. Not your father'

She swallows the lump in the back of her throat. _He's okay. Lucas is okay. Dad is okay. _'W-who then?'

'Derek'

Her brow furrows and she strives to grasp his words. She doesn't understand. Her wet eyelashes flutter as she opens her eyes and regards him, her confusion apparent. 'D-Derek? B-but you're-'

'Not me. Your half brother' He clarifies, ending the complex conclusions she's haphazardly coming to by herself.

She's frozen again. Eyes staring at him long and hard and she still doesn't get it because he's wrong. 'Derek is o-overseas'

'Apparently not'

'He- he's a soldier. He's not in America even. You-you're wrong-'

'Well if it wasn't him, it was his doppelganger. He saw me and pushed _him_ out the way and took the bullet himself.'

'He-he'll be okay though- r-right? H-he-'

'I wouldn't bet on it. If he'd not interfered Lucas would be dead and your brother would be just fine but he had to step in didn't he? I know you're not going to be happy about this but you'll see it doesn't matter, it's not like you knew the guy that well anyway. You've survived the most part of your life without him, it's no different. Not really. If anything it's probably for the best'

Her head feels heavy and her eyes sting as the relentless tears roll free silently. She feels concussed. She's in a state of shock and after her hysterical display just moments ago, fatigue has set in but she's oblivious to all of the shattering symptoms that are taking a hold of her body. Her ears are ringing loudly and all she can think is it's not true. He's lying. She won't accept it as the truth, not until she has proof. He's okay. He's okay. She'd never liked the idea of him being part of the army but right now she prays he's fulfilling his duties, anything but the alternative.

He reaches out and his fingertips have barely grazed her cheek when she's flinching away from his touch. She can't pretend it's okay right now, she can't play along when he's claiming he's killed her own brother. _Murderer. Murderer. Murderer._

She hugs her legs to her chest and slowly lays down.

'I had no intention of causing harm to him baby. I honestly didn't. This isn't my fault, you know very well who my target was. But this is all on you. It is. I told you to be good but you couldn't control yourself and I had to show you. I had to make you see sense and you forced me to risk our anonymity. I won't make that mistake again. I'll have to find other ways of teaching you'

His words are distant, her hearing lapsing but she does register his last words and she wonders if he was seen. Thinks he must have been. That, that was the cause of his anger more than anything, more so than hitting the wrong target. Because regardless of who he shot, it's still had the same effect, it's still hurt her and that was his intention. No, he was mad because he'd been close to being caught. She hopes someone saw something significant enough to lead them to her.

'You can sulk all you like baby but you're the one that did this'

She unravels then. Because he's right; she did do this. And she wants to take it all back. Every second of it.

And her silence is terminated by a tormenting mixture of desperation, grief and fear. She hurtles upright. 'I'll be good. Please, I'll be so good. Please. Please. He's alright really isn't he? You're, you're just teaching me a lesson aren't you? Scaring me-'

'Darling I'm a man of my word, you should know that by now-'

'I'll be good-' She shifts forward and all but crawls onto his lap, her hands locking at the back of his neck as she crushes herself against him. His brow raises in surprise but she doesn't hesitate, doesn't think, just does. She ghosts her mouth over his before teasingly trapping his bottom lip between her teeth. He groans and then she's crudely running her tongue soothingly over his swollen flesh before seeking out his own tongue to toy with. She kisses him hard and if she could have seen herself she'd have refused to believe it was indeed her but it's easy because she has a motive and she wants a truthful answer. She wants him to tell her it's all a lie, she'll do anything, be anything he wants if he'll just tell her none of it's true. 'He's okay isn't he?' Her words are breathy, almost sultry as she looks into his eyes.

'I told you sweetheart. I shot him'

Her limbs turn rigid and her expression transforms into a deathly glower and she suddenly can't get far enough away.

'Where are you going?' He drawls in entertainment as she clumsily stumbles and trips, landing on her backside on the floor at the foot of the bed.

'Away from you!' She cries loudly.

'You're a tease' He shadows her movements and crouches to try and help her up.

'Don't touch me! Don't you dare. Don't you dare touch me!' She haphazardly shuffles back across the floor. 'You're a murderer! I hate you!' Her back eventually hits the furthest wall and she huddles against it.

'I think you need a little alone time' He notes. 'I'll go and start dinner' He walks toward her cowering form before leaving and she shrieks when he roughly grabs her chin, directing it until she's looking up at him for his departing words. 'Don't you dare blame me for something that resulted from your own behaviour. You did this darling. Not me'


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N** Thanks to those of you reading and following :)

For a blissful moment she can't remember anything.

She's groggy. Her mouth feels like sandpaper.

She blinks and rubs her eyes and then it comes back, jarring through her.

And she knows why she feels like this, why she feels like she's been on a plane for a long-haul flight and the air con has dried up her airways. She knows it's because her sleep was enforced, that he'd jabbed a needle into her arm yet again.

She rubs the spot, it feels bruised.

She'd welcomed the drug, whatever it was at the time, because she couldn't calm down, couldn't get it together. She'd spiralled. She'd flitted back and forth from denial to anger and had quickly become more hysterical.

And for a short while she'd been able to escape but now she's conscious once more and she doesn't want to be. Because consciousness brings the knowledge of her brother's attack. Shot. Dead or alive, she's left to wonder. And it's gnawing at her insides. Because she's praying it's the latter, of course she is but she has little optimism.

And it's her fault. If she'd just kept her god damn mouth shut. If she'd just been everything he wanted. If she'd just been compliant from day one. If she'd just been a good girl.

And now...death had surrounded her life for too long. Family member after family member kept slipping through her finger tips and a part of her wonders if it's just a matter of time before she joins them.

She sits up slowly, a whining noise sounding from deep in her chest because she's strained her muscles in the last twenty four hours; a combination of her hysterical crying and thrashing her limbs around in anger.

She notices the box instantly. It's poised at the end of the bed, its shiny red ribbon drawing attention to it.

She scowls at it. Because there's no doubt in her mind that it's for her and she doesn't want to know what it holds. Because she doesn't want anything from him, whether it's something nice or some calculated gesture that will no doubt make her want to throw up. Neither prospect is appealing.

Her curiosity gets the better of her though and she migrates to it just the same, the perfectly tied bow begging her to be undone.

She tugs at it uncaringly, unlike her usual behaviour when it comes to gifts. She's never really liked it, she's more of a giver, she doesn't like the attention that comes with receiving presents, she doesn't like all eyes being on her. That being said, she usually refrains from opening it too quickly, prefers to drag it out so her audience gives up on waiting for the big reveal of whatever is inside. She hasn't got anyone watching her today though.

The ribbon falls away from the cream box and she pulls the lid off.

_I'm sorry we quarrelled _is scrawled across a gift tag, laying on a bed of tissue. _  
_

She's no longer astounded by his words but that doesn't mean they don't sicken her any less. Because since when did quarrel equate to murder.

She pulls the tissue away and a set of racy underwear stares up at her and she can feel bile rising in the back of her throat because this is the last _gift_ she could ever want and it makes nothing better, only worse.

And the thought of having to be with him in _that _way, now, after this, after he's done _this_, after he's potentially ended her sibling's life, she didn't think it was possible to be any more repulsed.

And she's more scared now of saying no than she has been since being here. She's managed to evade him touching her properly since that first night; the result of his own temper keeping her out of bounds but she's recovered now and knows he'll be hesitant to cause her so much damage again because he wants her, he wants her, all of her and she can try and fend him off, can yell and scream but all she's achieved through being wilful so far is endangering the ones she holds closest to her heart.

'Do you like it?'

Her eyes venture up wearily to find him watching her from the doorway. She wonders how long he's been stood there, is pretty sure if he's ben lurking there for long that it must be clear how much she does not like his oh so thoughtful gift.

'It doesn't really matter if I like it does it?' She mumbles tiredly. She grimaces and shakes her head more or less as soon as the words pass her lips. Because she isn't being a good girl. 'I'm sorry. I like it. I do...thankyou'

'You're still mad at me' He notes.

Her nostrils flare as she summons all her strength not to cry because "mad" isn't quite the right word.

'No..I-I'm just, you can't..you can't expect me to be able to just shut this out Ian- I- I mean I don't even know anything. Do you? Has it been on the news? Is he a-alive or- or d-dead?' She stammers.

'Sweetheart you need to forget about it hmm?'

'I just want to know' She murmurs softly. 'I-I-'

'Nothing has been confirmed' He relents. 'Just that there was a shooting'

She swallows thickly and nods silently in answer and he's suddenly directly before her. He sits down and pulls her close and hugs her to his chest and she grudgingly stays put. 'I know you're feeling sad baby but it's not like you'll see him again either way so it really doesn't matter' His voice is placating but it soothes her in no way shape or form. 'I can think of a couple of ways I can distract you'

Her eyes scrunch shut and she represses a shudder because _that, that_ most definitely won't distract her.

She stiffens as his hand trails up and down her back in a calming manner but it's just making her more and more on edge because she's waiting for it to descend to places she doesn't want his fingers going and she can't believe she's doing this, letting his blood covered hands touch her at all.

'Why don't you put your new present on baby and I'll make it up to you. I'll make you forget all about our silly fight' He husks.

She doesn't react because she's striving for a response, a correct response, one that he'll be happy to hear, one that will exempt her from what he's proposing...she fears their is no answer.

'You'll feel so much better once you've gone and freshened up and got dressed all nicely' He retrieves his boxed gift and places it in her arms.

She looks up at him meekly. 'Are you sure you don't know anything Ian? About Derek, if I know I can work on moving past this if you just tell me-'

'Peyton I answered you already didn't I? Go on. Go get changed' He urges her and she looks down at the box and wonders what he'll do if she says no outright. She doesn't want to find out so she slowly vacates the room.

She's gone for a good while. He's patient though. He'll go and get her if need be but he's confident she'll return because the reasoning for her distressing heartache is fresh in her mind and she won't want to risk anything else. He's right in his assumptions.

She does return eventually.

'Fuck' He curses as his eyes lock on her stood awkwardly in the doorway.

She watches his fingers at his sides clench and flex, itching to touch her.

She doesn't like the way he's surveying her one tiny bit, like she's a piece of meat that he wants to devour.

'You're so sexy'

She bites the inside of her cheek and gives a curt nod. The last thing she feels is sexy. Dirty. Corrupted. Everything but.

She's just been staring at herself in the mirror, studying the way the crimson material emphasises her chest. She'd fleetingly wondered if Lucas would like it. She'd been quick to dismiss that thought, she couldn't be thinking of him, especially when she was about to be unfaithful to him again because that is how she viewed it. Adultery.

'Come here'

She takes a shaky breath before hesitantly walking toward him.

'Mm you have no idea how long I had to look and not touch these' He remarks as she becomes within his reach and his hands eagerly reach out to grope her legs. She has an idea. The pictures he'd covered her bedroom wall with still stick in her mind. They gave her a good idea of how long he'd been watching her. 'And now I can touch you whenever I want. I can't believe we've had to wait so long before doing this again. I'm never going to let that happen again baby'

His fingers slide upward until they slip beneath the band of material at the tops of her legs and then he's jerking her panties down.

She gasps as she's jolted forward and her own hands instinctively fly out, finding contact with his shoulders as she tries to steady herself. And she wasn't prepared for his hasty action, she's barely been in the room five seconds and he's already ridding her of the gift he'd so desired seeing her in.

'Fuck' He hisses and licks his lips as he pulls the fabric down to her knees. He lets go then and it falls the rest of the way to the floor by itself.

And she feels horribly exposed and violated already. Her hands have hastily left his shoulders now and she doesn't know what to do with them because all they want to be doing is assisting her in breaking free from his hold.

He kisses her hip and his hands migrate around her to cup her bare backside and she doesn't like how quickly this is moving. 'Can-can we j-just go s-slow Ian'

'Mm we can go slow' He smiles accommodatingly. 'Come lay down' She swallows thickly because she doesn't want to lay down, doesn't want him on top of her, doesn't want to feel claustrophobic and trapped beneath him. But she lays down just the same.

He doesn't situate himself on top of her as she dreads, not at first anyway. He pulls his shirt over his head and scrambles up her side coaxing her mouth to his. And his bare skin touches her own flesh and in a second everything feels more sordid.

It's different this time. Not better, how could it be better? Just different. Different because not the slightest bit of her is naive to what is going to happen here, no hope or optimism that it'll end before it even starts. No, unlike last time she knows this is happening one way or another. It's that mental preparation and awareness that perhaps makes it a little easier on her body. Because she's trying to make her limbs compliant; he urges them to move she abides.

His promise of slow quickly dwindles and his kisses become more hungry and when his fingers slip beneath her bra a noise sounds at the back of her throat, a mixture of surprise and loathing.

'You like that don't you baby?' He decides as he continues to manipulate the sensitive skin beneath his fingertips.

She doesn't answer. She takes action instead because she can't do this. She's changed her mind. Slow isn't good. She can't lay here and let him touch her like this because it's not right and she might not be able to stop it but she can speed it up. At least that's her intention when her hands seek out his pants and begin to hurriedly work the button free.

He smirks. 'For someone that wanted slow, someone is very eager'

She manages a slight smile because her endeavours have worked; his hand has abruptly stopped it's ministrations and left the crimson bra and for a second she's relieved. But it's short lived because speeding this up means actually _doing_ this.

Unlike him, she avoids looking at what her hand is doing. He's watching eagerly as she frees him from his pants.

'See what you do to me baby' He grunts and shifts her legs further apart and as he rolls atop of her her panic flares because the inevitible is looming and something has just dawned on her.

'Wait, wait...we need...I was on the pill, I've not taken it since I've been here and I could...we need protection-'

'Baby that's in God's hands'

Her face is one of horror as she digests his reply. 'What? No' She shakes her head in disagreement. 'It's the 21st century! I can't, I'm not ready to have a child! I still feel like a kid myself-'

'Peyton God will decide when we're ready-'

'Ian!' She shrilly cries in alarm. 'Please you're not thinking!- A baby- a baby, you can't bring up a baby down here, it's, it's not right. A baby should, should be bought up anywhere but here, like this. A baby needs a-a mother and father that- that wants them, they should be born out of love-'

'Our child will be born out of love though won't it sweetheart?'

She closes her eyes, because she's spoken out of turn, something that sparks yet more dread.

'Baby?'

She inhales a shuddery breath before reluctantly answering. 'Yes'

His lips find the skin at her neck and she tenses but forces herself to stay put because she's already pushed his buttons, one more could be the last straw. He peppers wet kisses as he speaks. 'I want to be able to feel you, all of you. You want that too don't you baby?' He murmurs deeply in her ear and she's glad his face is buried in her neck because she can't disguise the revulsion that paints her face. 'I understand your reservations about children but it's not up to us, hm? Condoms go against nature'

She digs her nails into her legs then to stop herself from screaming because she wants to yell a thousand things at him. But she won't. She doesn't win this conversation. She knows that.

'You want to be able to feel all of me don't you baby? hm? You don't want me to go and find some contraception do you?'

She knows all too well by his condescending tone that he doesn't even have any. That he just wants to hear her defeated answer.

She can't force herself to give it though. But she doesn't pull away, doesn't shrug him off as he directs her hand to his arousal.

Her chest aches though and her desperate plea can't be contained. 'Please-'

'Have you not learnt your lesson?' He cruelly questions.

'Yes-Yes' She hurriedly agrees. 'I'm sorry' Her hand grasps him firmly and he grunts. 'I want you. I do. I want to feel you' She strokes him and tries to disregard the self hate that swells in the back of her throat.

She banishes all thoughts of pregnancy and a child with this man's features from her mind. Has to because if she lingers on it for a moment more, if she considers the ramifications of allowing him to go where she's guiding him she'll be fighting to escape him. And she can't do that. She's learnt her lesson. She really has. No more blood will be shed. Not because of her.

The discomfort as he pushes into her isn't as foreign this time round, she's now versed in how awful this can be, but that doesn't mean it's easier. She's finding it hard to remember that this act, being intimate with someone in this way, it can be oh so wonderful, it can be the very opposite of everything this is.

His invasion is slow at first but then his excitement gets the better of him and she yelps as he rocks into her swiftly. It's worse because she's somehow more aware this time, is aware of things she was too worked up to notice last time. Like his heavy breathing and grunting noises that sound ever so loudly in her ear.

And this time he's not having to work as hard at keeping her beneath him which is giving his hands more choices and he's making the most of this and she's not sure she can be submissive for much longer. She wishes she was dressed. She wishes it was more like last time because in retrospect the last time, albeit, it hadn't seemed quick at the time, but it was over sooner than this she's sure and she wants quick and rough over this slow dance he's playing.

His mouth seeks her own and her face twists away from his probing tongue because she can't breathe as it is.

He makes do with her neck but her disobedience has clearly bothered him because his teeth graze her flesh a little harder than necessary and he's taunting her mere seconds later. 'He won't want you now baby. No one will. Not now. You're all mine' His breathy words sound.

And she can't not think of Lucas then.

And her hands instinctively shoot out, pressing against his shoulders.

'You've just been pretending haven't you baby' He grunts and his fingertips dig into her thighs as he hoists them higher.

'N-no' She gasps.

'You still want him' His thrusts become rougher with his accusation. 'You're mine'

And her tears come abruptly because she doesn't want to be his and she needs him to hurry up and finish and she's panicking because she's managed to anger him yet again and she fears what action he'll take and it's that fear that fuels her words.

'Y-yes. I love you. I love you' She declares and she grapples for his face and presses her mouth to his. And she doesn't know if it's her words or her tongue pressing against his that has him falling over the edge. She doesn't care. She's only grateful he's finished.

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'She's going to hate me'

'Lucas this wasn't your fault' Larry grips the traumatised boys shoulders. 'You didn't do this'

'It should have been me-'

'And you think she'd be alright with that?' Larry shakes his head. 'Lucas I know I've not been here often but I've seen the way my daughter looks at you and she lights up when she's talking about you, believe me, I've had many a sleepless night over it' He admits. 'It was absolutely no surprise to me when she told me she was officially dating you. And I have to say, despite fretting over what you two would get up to alone in my house while I was away...'

Lucas feels his cheek flush.

'Well I was also relieved because I know how much you've looked out for her over the years and you're a good kid. And I know you'd do anything for her- I know because I've seen everything you've done- you're meant to be enjoying your summer before going off to college and you've put your whole life on hold-'

'I don't see how my life will be mine until she comes back. I can't...I need...I just want her to come home'

'Yes and you've spent day after day assuring me that that is going to happen son. You've not faltered once, you've instilled hope in me when I've been at breaking point. And she's going to need you even more after this tragedy'

'She loved him Larry. I know you didn't really know him but they clicked. They really did. God this is going to kill her...he didn't deserve...he...it was meant to be me'

'Lucas loosing you would kill her. I'm not saying she won't be devastated but you complete her in a way Derek couldn't have' Larry blinks away the tears that have gathered in his eyes.

'He saw him Larry, he saw him and I- I didn't react quick enough. Maybe if I had I would have caught up to him and we would be sat with her right now and it would be over and Derek, his death would have been for something. B-but I-I didn't'

'Lucas you could not of done anymore than you did. The police have got someone watching your mother's house as a precaution and they want to take you to a safe house-'

'No. I can't do anything of any use if I'm hiding'

'Lucas the outcome of today could have so easily been different. And I will not have you putting your life on the line. Peyton, your mother, your sister, your family and friends, Lucas you can't be so selfish as to not think about what loosing you will do to them'

Lucas grits his teeth.

'The police have been talking with psychologists and they're convinced that his behaviour today indicates that there's an ever greater chance that Peyton is alive- why would he seek you out otherwise? They believe, that given his state of mind, you're still a threat, especially if Peyton isn't... reciprocating..his feelings' He swallows thickly.

'Well I want him to act again Larry, maybe we can lure him in. Make him come after me'

'Son I love that you care so much but that's not an option. You're going to do as the police say and I, I'm going to continue everything Derek started' He firmly announces.

'Well that means you need to pack your bags Larry because the answers could all be in Louisiana'

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The blood trickles down her arm. She watches it inquisitively and then she slowly lets her leg submerge into the luke warm water and the crimson substance disperses, turning the surrounding water a rosy pink. It crosses her mind that not so long ago she'd been unable to fathom how people found relief in harming themselves. She had sympathy, she did, but the certain stereotypical down and out teenager that resorts to slashing themselves had a way of making her roll her eyes. Because half the time she was sure it was just attention seeking. But suddenly it makes the most of sense. It is avoidance, she's distracting herself; the sting is welcomed because anything is better than the consistent ache of her heart. She'd welcome physical pain over emotional turmoil any day. Because emotional wounds are harder to heal; they can't be physically seen on the surface of her skin, can't scab over and fade in the same predictable way. It's all more complicated and beyond her understanding.

And she'd not been thinking per say, she'd been holding the razor innocently enough one moment and then... She'd not even thought about it, it had not been a conscious decision. But it's relief. She's surprised by how much calmer she feels after.

But as days blur together it becomes more than that, it becomes more about control than relief. It's avoidance. It's anger and sorrow. It's self hate. It illustrates her fragmented state of mind. And most troublingly, it's addictive.

Her isolation has him growing irritable and it's his impatience that fuels him walking into the bathroom one day to catch her in the act. She's sat in the empty bath, her skirt bunched up and she's dragging the razor blade across her thigh.

She's been in the bathroom an unnecessary amount of time lately. She'd thought it amusing when he'd assured her she was of course entitled to her own privacy. Because she has none. Even when she's shut away from him he's still there, lurking in her mind and the lack of locks doesn't give her the safe sanctuary she desires.

She doesn't look up at his intrusion.

She's learning not to flinch every time she hears his footsteps. She's learning to block him out.

_This_ helps her block him out; She's too consumed by the prickling sensation.

He snatches her weapon from her hand and she sighs and lays back in the tub, trying to focus on the pain she's just inflicted upon herself because it's nicer here, nicer than the alternative. Nicer than wondering about her family and friends. Nicer than having to deal with the mental turmoil that being with _him_ entails.

'What the fuck are you doing?' He barks.

She doesn't answer. She closes her eyes and tries her best to ignore his riled voice.

He returns and he's dabbing a damp face cloth at the bloodied mark on her thigh and she stays perfectly still, relishes in how his attentions send another pang of pain through the wounded area. Because this pain is so much more welcome because it's her doing, it's not him. It's her, she's in control.

'Fuck Peyton' He's inspecting her more closely now.

She's surprised he hasn't caught on before now. Because she's got cut marks running up the inside of her thigh.

He's too self absorbed to have noticed sooner though and anyway, it's easy not to see when his own fingerprints mar her legs. He likes holding them around him, she always concentrates on the friction against her most recent artwork, she welcomes the sting because she deserves it, deserves all of it.

'You can't do that' He's stern. 'Why're you doing that?'

She opens her eyes then and he sees the darkness. But her resignation doesn't bring him joy as he'd anticipated. She'd been so well behaved since he'd taken action against her misdemeanours, since he'd shot her brother, since she was left to wonder of his fate. He was saving that little piece of information to teach her a lesson when the time came. But her bleak expression worries him because he wants her to be submissive and obedient, but this isn't that. This is just another form of escape. This is her not only trying to leave him but leave the world completely.

'You're not to do that, you hear?'

She doesn't answer and he doesn't push her because she's absent, looks almost like she's on drugs as she stares through him and up to the ceiling.

Any potential instruments that can assist in her self harming are suddenly confiscated.

Razors are locked away, only to be used under his watchful eye. Cutlery too. He even goes so far as to pull the laces from her shoes.

She doesn't know why he doesn't just throw the shoes out all together, it's not as though she has a reason to wear them.

The securing of all weapons doesn't stop her for long though.

Her hands have a mind of their own. She scratches her arms. She just needs her nails. She scratches until her skin is raw in places.

It burns when his hands later touch her. Those spots sting as though he's the one that's inflicting the wounds. He might not be physically causing them but he is responsible for her growing self destruction. And she hates him more.

And her mind recedes into an even darker place.

And soon her self harming isn't just an addictive game. It's a plot. It's practice. Because she doesn't want to live here, with him any more. She wants to be back home. She wants her Dad. She wants Lucas. But there's no way out. She can't find an escape to get to them. And even if she could, she's finding it harder and harder to find the optimism to believe she could ever be the girl they loved and wanted. Not after this.

Death is inviting.

It's freedom. It's an end to this, to the pain. But he won't even allow her to make that choice. He's the chooser and he won't let her go. Not in life or death.


	10. Chapter 10

'I wonder if you can help me. Do you recognise this man?' He didn't know how many times he'd asked that god forsaken question in the past four days...A lot...More than a lot. And he was finding it harder and harder to say it without impatience seeping into his voice. Because no one seemed to care of his predicament. No one seemed to have the time to take just a mere sixty seconds to inspect his picture. And he wasn't sure he could stay here much longer because he felt even further away from his daughter than every before. There was nothing familiar. Nothing of her in this place and he just wanted to go home, to be surrounded with her things, to be in a place where he held fond memories of her beautiful face.

The woman glances up from the pancakes she's flipping and then squints at the image in question and Larry anticipates the predictable shake of the head from the waitress. 'Why that's Ian'

His bleak expression is quick to transform. He blinks. 'Pardon?' He's not sure he's heard right because all he's had are a bunch of _no's_ and _I'm busy here sir_ and _sorry I can't help you_, since he'd arrived.

'That's Ian erm what was it, B, it began with a B... B, Banks, that was it Ian Banks' The woman concludes.

'You know him?' Larry clarifies incredulously. 'You know this man?'

'Well I wouldn't say know per say. But know of'

'You're sure?'

'That kid's blue eyes are hard to forget, quite the handsome boy' She dishes up her pancakes and disappears down to the other end of the breakfast bar to deliver them to a seated customer.

Larry licks his lips. He nearly yells at her to come back because he feels like he's just been dangled a vital lifeline and now she's run off with it.

He refrains from doing so however, is pretty sure she won't be up for divulging any more if he starts yelling in the middle of this full cafe. He hastily perches on the nearest stool, his heart is racing and his mouth dry with anticipation as he waits a long five minutes for her return. She reappears before him wiping her hands on her pinny and a friendly smile at her lips.

'You look a little peaky- Can I get you anything love?'

'Er...sure, yes a coffee but can I ask you some more questions about...-'

'Ian?'

'Right, Ian'

'What's this about exactly?' She pauses in pouring him some of the rich dark coffee brew, her brow furrowed.

'I need to find him'

'Why?' She eyes him suspiciously.

Larry pushes his tongue to the roof of his mouth. 'My daughter you see, she's missing and well, I'm hoping if I can find him-'

'Ah, run off together have they?' She smiles.

'Something like that'

'Well I'm afraid I won't be much help. I don't know the kid personally, as I said. You see my son was in the year below him at elementary school. That was a good while ago now. The only reason I remember him is cause of what happened. Poor kid, didn't have much going for him in the first place- he was a foster kid- It was sad really, what happened'

'What happened?' Larry tries to keep his voice unwavering.

'Well he and his girlfriend, they were in a car crash, she didn't make it.'

'It was an accident?' Larry wonders doubtfully.

'Yes, sad really- if I remember rightly they were leaving here, off to travel together. His foster parents didn't approve of course. They'd had him since he was little so I guess he was like their own really but they didn't approve of certain things'

'What things?'

'Of the girl for starters. They're very traditional you could say, didn't like the idea of him going off with some girl when they weren't married'

'What happened then...after the accident?'

'I don't know. I think he reluctantly moved back in with his foster parents for a while-'

'Do you know where they live?'

'Er...I'm not sure, I know they attend the church on Bleaker's street though but I've not seen the boy, not for a long time now'

'So you don't recognise this girl?' He fumbles in his pocket and produces a picture of Peyton. 'This is my daughter, Peyton'

'My...that, that's uncanny'

'What?' Larry's wide eyes inspect her face.

'Well it's just she, she's ever so much like...well she's the spitting image of the girl that died in the car crash'

Larry swallows thickly.

'She, she didn't run off with him' He reveals suddenly. 'Peyton I mean. He, he took her from her home against her will. Please, if you know anything else, please...'

The woman's face has paled dramatically and if he didn't have her full attention before he definitely does now.

'Took her?'

'Yes. This picture here' He prods the CCTV snapshot of her abductor. 'This is taken from footage, a recording of him taking her from her home, unconscious, in the dead of night. She's my little girl and...' He trails off and closes his eyes.

The older woman reaches out to him, her hand hesitantly covering Larry's. 'I- I didn't know. I-Im so sorry love. I had no idea. My, why isn't this in the news-'

'It is' Larry expels. 'But I, I'm not from around here- I'm from North Caroline and the thing is, until just now we didn't have a name, he'd taken someone else's identity, so thank you, you have no idea how much this is going to assist the police'

'I'm sorry I can't be of anymore help. You should try the Church, they should be able to point you in the right direction of his foster parents'

'Yes, yes I'll do that' His head bobs up and down and he's suddenly standing, a surge of energy fuelling him. He can't move quick enough and an excitement builds in his stomach, anticipation, the prospect of answers at long last. And she suddenly feels close, within his reach and he's backing up toward the cafe exit because he fears if he pauses for even a moment longer she'll disappear and he won't be able to grab ahold again and god help him, he'll not let that happen.

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'What's this?' She sheepishly hovers in the doorway. She's been working up the courage to come and see what he's up to out here for the last fifteen minutes and _this_ never crossed her mind because all she's been considering is bad things since he'd left that morning, promising to return with a surprise.

'Oh there you are baby' He smiles. 'I know you get bored while I'm out sometimes and thought you might like a little something to pass the time'

'A tv?' She's waiting for the big but because this is a doorway to the outside world and she can't believe he'll be okay with her being in touch with anything that links to her previous life. It's been a big no no so far.

'Yes' His tone is amused. 'It's a tv'

'That we can use?'

'No baby, I just bought it to look at a blank screen' He teases.

'I'm allowed to watch tv?' She shuffles over to the item in question like a kid on christmas morning.

He turns on the switch at the wall and rises to his feet. 'Yes sweetheart' He kisses her forehead. 'You're allowed' He smiles sweetly. 'Here' He holds the remote out to her and she stares at it for a long moment like it's a ticking time bomb. 'It won't bite darling'

She nervously accepts the controls and continues to stare at it.

'I know the remote is riveting but I'm sure it'll be even more exciting if you use it to turn on the TV' He laughs at her.

She bites her lip and points it at the monitor before her and her eyes are wide as the blackness disappears and people fill the television and her eyes light up along with it. Other people. Something other than these walls that she looks at day in day out.

Her stare stays fixated on the moving image as he gently guides her backwards to the sofa and she barely notices when he pulls her down to sit on his lap.

'You like it?'

She nods wordlessly. It's true. She does. She's almost ashamed of how happy this is making her right now, but it is. It doesn't matter that it's just commercials that are currently playing, everything about it is exciting because voices that aren't her own or Ian's are filling the room, music is playing in the background. She'd not realised how much she missed such simple things. Music. God she wishes she had music in her life again.

He jerks her back so she's cradled in his side and for the first time she's not thinking about how she wants his arms away from her. She's too wrapped up in the tv, too engrossed to feel his unbearable closeness 'You really, really like it huh?'

She temporarily looks up at him. 'Thank you'

He smiles, his hand stroking tenderly over her cheek. 'You're welcome darling, you deserve it' She does because she has been good. She's learning, well that's what he thinks. He doesn't take it as detachment from him and everything that surrounds her. It's her seeing the light. He no longer has to tell her to do certain things. She picks out his favourite outfits. She does her hair as he likes it. She does her make up just as he wants. She says thank you even when she's the least bit thankful. She just about says I love you without flinching. And overall he's pleased with her progress.

He coaxes her mouth to his and she doesn't try to evade it. She kisses him back because she is thankful and she doesn't want him to take this away, not yet. But she knows all too well that nothing is ever given for free, she just doesn't know what price she's yet to pay.

'Thank you' She murmurs again when he pulls back and then her eyes leave him because the noises sounding across the room are enticing her.

'I'm going to get a start on dinner'

'Should I help?' It's the last thing she wants but it's never about what she wants.

'No. You're alright there, stay, relax' He ruffles her hair and she tries to smile but it doesn't really happen because her face struggles to feign such gestures when it comes to looking at him.

She curls herself up in the corner of the sofa when she hears the movement of cupboards being opened and pots and pans being put to use somewhere behind her and she does relax, just a little. It's only at these times, when she can hear he is fully preoccupied that she can let her guard down ever so slightly and the TV helps because she's becoming swiftly wrapped up in what's on the screen. It's the news channel and the commercials have ended now and she jumps because they're reporting on events that she feels completely out of the loop of and there's footage of soldiers firing and she shudders at the noise and she's semi aware that she's becoming increasingly jittery at any loud noise but she can't help it. Because he's a ticking time bomb and sure she's definitely learnt how to avoid being a target but there are still moments when he takes her by surprise.

When the woman says her name just moments later her unease turns to that of excitement and dread, an unusual combination that results in her knotted stomach.

She thinks she's misheard but then it's said again and her pricked ears have her lurching from the chair and her legs give way beneath her before she's made a step. She scrambles across the floor until she's a breath away from the screen.

There are soldiers stood to attention...there's people she doesn't recognise, _his_ family, Derek's family. But there are people she does recognise. Her dad. Lucas. Karen with a baby...a baby girl. Brooke, Haley and Nate, Haley holding a bundle of blue blankets, signifying she too has had her little baby. She takes it all in but the main thing that resonates is the coffin and his framed picture stood beside it and she knows all her hopes and prays are lost with now. Because she's finally being given the answer she'd been craving, that she's spent hour after hour wondering if she'd ever have and suddenly she doesn't want it, she doesn't want to know because it's exactly what she's been dreading, what she's secretly felt deep down. Derek is dead.

It's there, they're all there for just a second and then it's gone and the footage changes abruptly. Her name is being said again and again by the woman speaking but she can't take in anything being said. But then _he_ fills the whole screen.

'Lucas' His name slips from her mouth. It feels strange. She's not said it aloud in so long.

_If you see this Peyton, please know we've not given up on you. Please know how sorry I am, please know that I will never give up on you. Please know that I love you..._ He puts his hand up then signalling he cannot go on.

Her hand reaches out touching his face. He looks so distressed. So sad. 'I love you' she whispers inaudibly '...I'm right here' and she wants to pause the screen so she can really take him in. He looks different, older somehow and painfully tormented and she wishes she could somehow speak to him, just for a moment, just to tell him he's got nothing to be sorry for, just to let him know she's alive.

'Well, I really had hopped for better'

She freezes and closes her eyes and knows in an instant that this was the test all along and she's failed, of course she has, how could she ever have passed?

'Maybe this was too soon' He mewls thoughtfully. 'You're not ready'

Her eyes tiresomely avert to look at him, her expression incredulous. She can't help it. Not after seeing _that_, her brother's funeral, everyone gathered to say goodbye but her. And it's all because of him. For the most part she can be compliant, uncaring, disconnected but there are moments, moments like this very second that her oppression becomes too much and she quickly finds herself rebelling against his tiresome mind games.

'You're fucking deranged' She spurts suddenly, the flickering images of the people she loves on the TV before her instigating her rage. 'I'll never be ready. You're completely psychotic. You've known he was dead all along haven't you?' She growls and gallantly stands to her full height, her body teetering as her legs struggle to hold her body weight.

'Definitely too soon' He mutters.

'I'm not going to suddenly wake up one day and accept that I'm here Ian, you actually believe I want you deep down don't you? You've actually convinced yourself that I love you' She snorts. 'How could anybody love you?'

She welcomes the slap, it feeds her anger.

'You think I'm yours? Well I'm not! I'm not! I'm a girl being held captive, that's what this is. I don't choose this, I don't choose you! I'm not yours! And the whole world knows it' She wavers her hand at the TV and a part of her knows she's going to soon regret her outburst but she can't contain it. Seeing her loved ones has sparked a fury inside of her and it can't be extinguished.

He grabs her then and she's far from the good girl of mere minutes ago, she reels herself back determinedly and he grunts as her elbow jabs into him but he's strong and resilient and persistent and he soon has her flailing limbs pushed down on the nearby sofa.

'Are you going to hit me some more now? So you can feel like a man?' She seethes. 'It's pathetic. You're weak and pathetic'

His cheeks are flushed and a sheen of sweat coats his forehead as he looks down at her manically.

He doesn't hit her.

And she expects worse when his hand ventures towards his pants but his fingers fumble in his pocket, not with his belt as she's expecting because that's his usual way of showing her who she belongs to.

She's exerted herself too much and it shows in her shortness of breath and she wishes she'd been smart because now is the time to struggle with all her might but she's not sure she has the energy.

'What are you doing?!' She screeches because his hand has reappeared and he's produced a penknife and her mind is quickly racing.

'What's wrong baby? I thought you were into this kind of thing' He slyly remarks as he flips the blade out.

'Ian!' She dives sideways away from him but she doesn't even know why she tries because she's too weak and she's become accustomed to his strong arms putting an end to all of her attempted escapes.

His hand slips around her waist as she awkwardly hangs off the sofa and he can't get a proper grip on her and she slopes down onto the floor in her bid for escape. 'Don't hurt me-'

At his angle he can't lift her back onto the soft cushions and instead follows haphazardly.

The carpet beneath her burns her arms as she drags herself backward in her desperation to avoid his touch and her eyes expand because she doesn't understand. She thinks maybe this really is the end. Maybe he's going to do it, end it. And given her low mood and dark thoughts as of late she's surprised that she suddenly cares so much. She doesn't want to die. That thought hits her hard and fast.

He sits across her legs and his weight has her helplessly pinned down.

'Ian!' She shrieks as he hikes her top up. 'Stop' She begs because she doesn't want to die. She really doesn't and he's pointing his weapon at her so menacingly.

She hisses loudly as the point of the blade digs into the skin just above the waistband of her skirt, slowly but with steady pressure.

She watches fretfully, sucking in her stomach in the hope that it will actually help her evade the sharp point.

'I'll be good. I'll be so good. You don't need to kill me-'

'Kill you?' He smiles amusedly. 'Baby I'm not going to kill you. I just want to show you how you _are_ very much mine sweetheart and I think you need a constant reminder of that.'

She shakes her head. She doesn't understand. All she knows is there's the starting of a stinging sensation where the knife is digging into her and it's human nature to try and get away.

'Maybe my initials will help you remember your place'

And then she knows exactly what his intentions are. He wants to brand her, like she's an animal and her relief over his assurances that he wasn't about to end her life are short lived because she doesn't want to be permanently marked, not by him, not as his.

'If you wriggle it's only going to be a mess isn't it?' He warns. And she's not sure whether he means his artwork or as in she's going to wind up getting seriously wounded.

'You don't need to do this. I know I'm your-...' Her words are cut off as he abruptly drags the blade down, slicing her skin.

And it's not the same. It doesn't feel the same as when she was doing this to herself because it's not the same; she's not in control and there is no immediate relief and escape from her self hatred and guilt. Because he's doing this to her. He's inflicting yet more pain on her and it's not freeing her emotional and mental strain, it's just adding to it.

She grits her teeth together because he's not being quick about it, he's taking his time. His fingers coasting over the bloodied skin as he finishes the 'I'. She whimpers and clenches her eyes shut because it burns and she hopes it will end there but he's not done and the 'B' is somehow worse, probably because his drawing article has to move in a variety of directions as apposed to the straight lines of the 'I'.

He shushes her and tells her she's going to be just fine like she's a five year old child that's just fallen over and scraped their knee and she hates the humming patronising tone he feeds her as though she's being dramatic and this is all so very normal.

'There' He murmurs when he's finished and she dares to look down at his handiwork and her red smeared skin makes her feel queasy but it's the two clear letters that are seemingly imbedded into her flesh that has her looking away in disgust.

'Maybe a heart around it would be-'

'No' She splutters tearfully. 'That's fine. It's fine as it is' She declares and he smiles at her condescendingly.

'Darling I thought you had a high pain threshold. I mean, you've been trying to do this at any opportunity you've had so what's the difference in me doing it?' He wonders. 'Besides, sometimes you have to suffer for your art. You of all people should know that'

'It's better without'

'A heart signifies our love, it's more romantic'

Her bottom lip trembles and she gives up arguing because she knows it's going to get her nowhere, knows he's made his decision. She braces herself for the unpleasant feeling at her side to resume.

It does.

'You're going to love it baby'

She begs to differ. She takes deep, deliberate breaths to stop herself from thrashing beneath him and a restrained sob almost escapes her but she swallows hastily and instead silent tears make tracks down her rosy cheeks.

'There' He finally finishes a few minutes later and flips the penknife back into it's red casing and admires what's left behind. 'Now, in future, when you forget we can just show you this' He nonchalantly declares as he pulls his t-shirt off and dabs at her red tinged skin. She gasps noisily because he's not gentle and if feels like he's rubbing salt in the wound. 'Shh, it's all done now' He consoles her and she bravely lets her blurry vision trail back down to her hip. It's not huge but the size is irrelevant. It's what it symbolises. It's that it's there and she fears always will be.

'It's actually kind of sexy' He decides and he touches her face and his fingertips are sticky with her blood and she shivers irrepressibly because she knows what that means. Knows that he's turned on and she closes her eyes resignedly as his face nears hers and his lips seek out hers.

She shies away and he makes do with her neck instead.

She'd blocked out the sound of the TV some minutes ago but the noise begins to filter back through her as she tries to focus on anything but what his intentions are. The reporters are no longer discussing her whereabouts, instead sports highlights are being relayed and the commentators voice is soothing and she listens intently.

During her reminiscing he's rolled onto the floor beside her so he's essentially spooning her rigid form and she's suddenly a free agent, free of his heavy weight but she can't bring herself to sit up because she knows the bloody, raised cuts are going to protest with such movements. His hand grips at her wounded skin a second later, inflicting yet more pain on her body and she silently scolds herself for compliantly staying put and not trying to put some distance between them.

'You're hurting me' Her mewled whimper is ignored but she's certain it's heard and if she hadn't been sure before, she is now- she's sure he's getting off on her discomfort, sure he believes with every ounce of his being that she deserves this...she's starting to think maybe he's right.

But despite her discomfort she's thankful that he's not on top of her because at least she doesn't have to look at him like this. She doesn't have to pretend to be emotionally present. She doesn't have to be present at all and for a moment she doesn't care about her war wound. She'd even go so far as to say she's thankful for it because the stinging is a welcomed distraction from where his hands are venturing. More than welcomed.

She lets her eyes roll backward and is hypnotised by the upside down people that are dribbling a ball across a court on the tv screen and she's starting to get a hang of how to go somewhere else mentally. She's not here right now. She's at a basketball game. She's a cheerleader. It's nice there. It's a simpler time. A safer time. And if it weren't for him husking in her ear she's sure she'd be able to stay there indefinitely.

LPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLP

'Larry said the police have been speaking to his foster parents for the last twenty four hours. They found a laptop at their house and were able to confirm it was him that was messaging her all that time ago, that he was watching her on her webcam. They have all this information that we didn't before- they can track his movements'

'That's great honey- well not great but you know what I mean' Karen murmurs, her eyes filling with sadness as she watches her eldest child. He's holding a gurgling Lily and she wonders when he grew up so much because it feels like only yesterday that she was cradling him in her arms as a sleeping babe.

His expression is one of angst and it's become a permanent fixture in the weeks that have passed and she thinks he's too young to have suffered such heartache.

'Is Larry back from Louisiana?' She inquires as she tests the temperature of a prepared bottle on her wrist.

'He's flying back in a few hours. He says there's going to be a press conference. They're hoping now they've got a name and more pictures of him, more people will recognise his face and be able to help'

'Yes, I'm sure they will' Karen squeezes his shoulder and hands over Lily's milk, a small smile touching her lips as she watches her young daughter eagerly latch onto the bottle and guzzle away, her small little hands clinging onto Lucas' guiding hand. 'Are you okay sweetie?' She asks softly. She knows he's sick of her asking that question, knows the answer isn't yes, but yet she can't stop asking it regardless.

'I'm...it's obviously great news, it's a lead. A big one and it's all I've been waiting for...but I, I'm worried what it might make him do. What if, what if this makes him nervous, if he's still local? He might, this might make him run or he-he might panic and-'

'Don't think that Lucas' Karen cuts him off because she can see his distress reaching a breaking point and she doesn't want his tormenting thoughts to invade her own mind. She can't let them, because she's his mother and she has to give him hope, has to keep him optimistic and she can only do that if she continues to believe that Peyton Sawyer will return them. 'This is all so promising. It's the best news we've had in weeks. There's been so many dead ends but this, this is big. They're closing in on him honey. They'll be able to find out things that weren't possible until now.'

'Providing he's been using his own identity. He could have new accounts, fake passports. God he could have even taken her out of the country-'

'Lucas' She brushes her hand soothingly over his head. 'Honey, just try to stop thinking about all the possibilities. We don't know anything. But we will. We will. He'll have slipped up somewhere, if not yet, it's only a matter of time until he does'

Lily's eyes are drooping and Lucas expertly squeezes her little foot to remind her to keep sucking just like he's watched his mother do and Karen knows he's going to be wonderful at this when the time comes.

'He already did slip up. He killed her brother. In broad daylight and still got away with it. That could have been our only opportunity-'

'You've got to stop blaming yourself for Derek, sweetie. It wasn't your fault. God absolutely none of this is your fault. You hear me?'

'I just want her back' He murmurs quietly. 'I want it to be over'

'I know baby, I know. It's going to be alright.' She embraces him and kisses his forehead and he silently prays she's right because with each passing day his optimism is slipping and a world without Peyton Sawyer seems so very unbearable.

LPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLP

She's still laying on the floor. He's gone. Left her to deal with the raw wounds at her side. She daren't look. Not yet. Laying still is much more favourable. She's enjoying the hum of the TV. It's still on and the news channel is still playing and they're reporting on how warm the Summer has been so far and she wonders what that feels like; Sun beating down on her pale skin. She'd never appreciated such trivial things before now. From her position the picture is still upside down but she can make out the scene. The reporter is standing in a park before a water fountain and children keep running through the refreshing spray.

A small smile touches her lips at their innocent laughter. She closes her eyes and pretends she's there too, the sky blue above her, the grass lush and green beneath her.

'Breaking news now. We have a press conference coming up shortly with the father of missing Peyton Sawyer. It's been confirmed that Ian Banks is the prime suspect in her disappearance and in the shooting of her half brother, Derek Sommers just two weeks ago'

Her eyes widen and she scrambles upright.

'Fuck' The curse expels sharply from her mouth at the stabbing pain at her waist that her abrupt movement causes.

She blinks and swallows thickly, her stare determinedly focusing back on the TV screen.

Pictures of him glare back at her and a lump is quick to form in her throat. Her heart races. They know his name. They know who he is. And she's overwhelmed with relief and fear.

She tries to focus. Tries to listen to the words being said but it's hard, hard to digest anything but his face. It's him, him before she knew him. He looks deceivingly sweet and kind. He looks like the man she'd been fooled into thinking he was when he'd first turned up on her doorstep.

Her brow furrows as his face disappears and a girl's image takes it's place. It's not her, painfully like her but it's not her. _Maggie Watterson. _She listens carefully now. Listens to how he'd been in a relationship with this lookalike, that she'd died.

She shudders, her breathing becoming haphazard as she tries to comprehend this new information, tries to comprehend what this means for her.

She'd been certain he didn't want her dead, that that was the last thing he had in store for her but now she's not so sure. Not now that he's wavered a knife at her, not now that she knows another girl has died in his company, accident or not.

The still images fade and live footage fills the screen and then she sees Larry. Her father. And in that moment she knows she can't die, she doesn't want to, he's already taken so much, she won't allow him to take her breath away. Can't, because her father needs her and she'll fight, fight for survival and just like that, the weakness and defeat that had invaded her bones in recent days seemingly evaporated, leaving a warrior behind, a warrior hell bent on surviving.


End file.
